More
by Lilabeth
Summary: Caroline Forbes is sure about one thing: something about Stefan is off. The doubt has crept in slowly. It isn't one thing; it is a culmination of tiny moments, a feeling of being in a waking dream – something just shy of reality. Like something is missing. Like Stefan is missing. Set after the events of the season 4 finale (contains spoilers).
1. Some Number of Leagues Under the Sea

She ascended the face of the cliff without any gear, taking hold of craggy rocks and exposed tree roots with her bare hands. When she reached the pinnacle, she took a moment to behold the scene before her. The waterfall, the lake below, the untouched bit of the world seeming as picturesque as a postcard. Caroline Forbes drew a deep, calming breath through her nostrils. _It's just a precaution, _she told herself. _You're just checking. You'll just make sure. And when you find stony Silas still trapped in his watery grave, you'll know._

The doubt had crept in slowly. It seeped in through the seams little by little until Caroline was swimming in it. It wasn't one thing; it was a culmination of tiny moments, a feeling of being in a waking dream, something just shy of reality. Like something was missing. Like Stefan was missing.

Three months ago, Caroline walked into the Salvatore Boarding House, snatched a bottle of honey-colored whiskey from a cabinet, uncorked it with her teeth, and took a generous swig. She plopped down on an overstuffed sofa next to Stefan and extended the bottle to him. And for the smallest moment, a span of time so short it almost didn't register, he simply stared back at her, bewildered. It was nearly immeasurable, the bit of time it took him to be Stefan-like, to do all the appropriate Stefan things: take the bottle and drink, commiserate while passing it back and forth, let her talk too long about the still-absent Tyler, and reassure her it would all be all right in the end. He was like an engine that didn't turn over on the first try. Caroline noticed, but she reminded herself she wasn't the only one enduring a little heartbreak. He had been off since Elena made her choice. It wasn't so strange.

A week later, she tried to make him smile. She told him he was wearing his, "Hey, it's Tuesday" face.

"It's Friday," he answered.

Since then, dozens of little things, the worst of these a flashing instance she looked up to find him staring at her. She could have sworn the expression on his face was an immaculate rage, an undiluted hatred that took her breath away. It disappeared in the blink of an eye, transitioning unnaturally into a warm smile. But the image of his face twisted in anger - anger inexplicably directed toward her - bore into her mind.

There were other moments he seemed to not know the right thing to do or say, time he seemed to be looking up the answer in an invisible book. Like Silas had those times he waltzed into their lives, wearing someone else's skin and seeming just so slightly _off._

But Silas was gone. Or as gone as something with that level of immortality could be, hidden away and unreachable beneath the water.

Damon shrugged off Caroline's concerns. So did Elena. Both were under the impression that Stefan not being his normal self was not any cause for alarm under the circumstances. They were uncomfortable when she brought it up, like she was intentionally trying to guilt them by forcing them to think of the brother brushed aside.

So Caroline ignored it, too. She told herself she was inventing a distraction to occupy her thoughts from Tyler, who had been free of Klaus' mandate for months and still hadn't returned to Mystic Falls.

But the feeling gnawed away at her until she couldn't take another day of uncertainty. She'd just check. And when she found Silas right where Stefan left him, she'd have her peace of mind, and no one needed to know that the neurotic Caroline had temporarily taken the helm.

Or she'd find an empty safe, Silas somewhere on the loose and Stefan God knew where.

_You're just checking, _she reminded herself again, and leaped from the precipice. She plunged beneath the water and kicked her way up to the top. The waterfall roared in her ears, stirring the water and emitting a cloud of fine mist all around her. She dove below the surface and squinted through the muddy water and the flood of bubbles roiling under the falls. Finally, her eyes adjusted, and she made out a black rectangular box, tilted slightly and buried a foot deep in the sediment of the lake floor.

She swam toward it and inspected the safe. Closed and in tact. So far, this was shaping up to be an entirely unnecessary journey. She pressed her ear against the door and began to turn the knob slowly, stopping and reversing at the "click" her ears picked up. Three stops, and the handle was free to push down. She yanked the door hard, and it loosed a cloud of murky dirt through the water. As it settled, she saw inside the safe: a face, grey and cracking. Silas in all his stony glory.

When the eyes of the face opened, Caroline let a silent scream escape her mouth with a stream of bubbles that floated upward. The still, grey figure before her wasn't Silas. It was Stefan.


	2. Reverse Rotting 101

"I hope this is what you want," Caroline said and ran her blade over the last animal's throat. Three rabbits and two squirrels were suspended by their hind legs and dripping blood into a styrofoam cup she found in her car. "You know, I'd be happy to go grab you a real live human happy meal. But I know how you are about your diet," she turned to look at him. He looked like something out of a crime procedural, like something that would require a series of dental checks and DNA tests before it could even be identified as human - well, nearly human.

"Cause you know this will take longer - a lot longer," she continued, watching his face for the slightest movement. "It'd help if you could answer, if you could just tell me what to do here, if..." _if his tongue wasn't bloated and rotting in his mouth, if his skin wasn't as frail as tissue paper, if he had a nose instead of a deep hole in the center of his face_. She didn't know what parts of him had fallen away as she dragged him from the lake and pulled his body into the cavern cut into the stone of the cliffs. He wasn't whole, that much was certain.

The animal blood stopped streaming down and slowed to a drip, drip, drip. She took the cup and carried it over to him, retrieved the plastic straw that had come with it from her pocket and transferred a drop from the cup to his lips.

"You know, I've thought more than once that the Caroline-Stefan-BFF club might work better if I was the only one who could do any talking. You're always telling me what I need to hear, which is usually the thing I don't want to hear. And your Stefan lectures have a tendency to go on and on, and you're always right about everything, and usually it's just so... infuriating." She placed the straw to his mouth again. "And now I just want you to say _anything._ Tell me what to do. Please?"

She wanted to sit and cry. She wanted someone else to be in charge. She wasn't the problem-solver or the plan-former. And back home Silas was walking around her town, living in a house with her friends, wearing Stefan's body like a tailored suit.

She told herself to keep going. This, she could do. Take the blood from the cup to his mouth, one drop at a time, over and over and over again. Hours passed like this. She talked to him about Tyler and Damon and Elena and the Stefan imposter living in the Salvatore mansion these past three months. She talked about how happy everyone was that Jeremy was back, how Elena was almost herself again, the scars from that dark time after Jeremy's death nearly healed. She talked about things that didn't matter - registration day coming up for classes at Washington and Lee University and the umpteenth Founder's celebration that year and how she missed Bonnie, who'd been at her mother's for the summer.

"I think you look almost peach-ish," she said when the cup was empty. "Definitely less grey." She looked him over and squealed. "You have four fingers! You definitely had three on that hand an hour ago, and you've got four fingers!" She held up her own hand to his face in an emphatic "four" gesture. He was still as stone.

"Well, if you're not going to get excited about that, we'll have to work on getting you _five_ fingers. I'm thinking something a little bigger. Before you say anything, don't worry - I'll stick to the Stefan-approved diet, but I'm thinking maybe a deer this time? If that's okay by you, just lie there and don't move... perfect."

The next day, he'd healed to the point of looking at least like a fresh corpse. All his extremities were present and accounted for - ten fingers, ten toes, and his left ear had made a reappearance. He was still mangled, still motionless except for his eyes, which rolled around some in his head. He'd gone through a slew of game she killed for him. And she could feed him directly from the cup now, but she did this slowly as swallowing seemed to be an ordeal for him.

He smelled terribly, and she told him so. When she did, she swore his eyes looked amused, like somewhere inside his mind, he was laughing at her.

"So, I've been trying to come up with a plan, and so far all I've got is this: kill Silas. I think we can agree it's a good plan, yes?"

She stood and lifted the last deer, drained dry off the makeshift hook she'd wedged between two stones in the cave ceiling. She carried it to the entrance and flung it to the bottom of the gully.

"You owe me for all this, by the way. Big time." A smile? Maybe. It seemed like the corners of his mouth had made a definitive effort to twitch.

"Good a plan as killing Silas may be, I haven't exactly worked out the details, so I think it's time to call in some backup. Damon will know what to do. And they need to know what's happened - they don't even know Silas is still around." She reached into her pocket to pull out her cell phone. A pained howl of a noise came from Stefan where he lay.

She dropped to her knees beside him, watched his throat convulse as he tried to speak. She pressed her ear close to his lips, and heard a single word escape his mouth: "No."

She sat up and looked down at him. "Okay, this?" she said as she lifted her cell phone to show him and placed it back in her pocket. "This is me trusting you - trusting that you have a good reason for keeping people who might actually be able to help away. A good reason why I've been killing characters out of Bambi and haven't taken a shower in two days. Trusting that there's not a vampire equivalent of permanent brain damage, and you actually know what you're doing. I'm trusting you."


	3. Bad News

By morning, Stefan was managing another word: "More". This he said again and again, after she brought him each of three squirrels, a wolf, and a number of once-cute-and-fluffy bunnies. He could sit, resting against the rock wall of the cave. He lifted each carcass to his mouth and proceeded to slurp and gulp, stopping only to lick his lips and demand, "More."

He slept during the afternoon, and Caroline stockpiled a variety of dead things near the cave's entrance for when he woke.

"You know I can't smell you anymore," she told his sleeping form. "Which can only mean that I smell as bad as you do at this point, so there's something else to thank you for." She sighed and kissed the top of his head - a gesture that surprised her a little even as she did it. "Get better," she said and lay down next to him.

When she woke, it was dark outside, but a fire had been lit, and the cave was bright with flickering orange light. Stefan sat, cross leg in front of the flames, and poked the logs with a stick.

"Are you...?" she began, unsure how to finish.

"Back," he answered. "I'm back."

The sound she made was something like laughter, something like crying. She flung herself at him, ignored the grunt of pain he made as she wrapped her arms around his body. He managed to lift an arm from beneath her grip and pat her back as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"Oh god, Silas. And Damon and Elena are in that house with him, and he's been playing Stefan-dress-up for the whole summer. And I _drank_ after him! These lips," she pointed to her mouth for emphasis, "have shared a bottle with that slimy, skin-stealing, way-too-immortal-for-his-own-good _asshat_!"

"All right, slow down, Care," Stefan said. "We'll figure out something."

She nodded and took a few lamaze-style breaths. "Okay. Okay, we'll figure out something," she suddenly realized she'd stood and begun pacing, and she returned to the fire. "I missed you," she said. "I didn't know that was what it was, but I did. I _missed_ you. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry I left you - we all _left_ you there. I can't imagine what that was like." She pressed the back of her palm to her cheeks, wiping away tears that had begun to fall.

"Hey," he pulled her hands away and into his own. "Hey, it's okay now. It's okay. I'm back."

She nodded. "What do we do?"

Stefan shook his head and stared into the fire. "I don't know."

"Is there a reason why I can't call our friends now?" Caroline asked.

"A very good reason," Stefan answered. "The only advantage we have over Silas at the moment is that he doesn't know anyone's onto him. The more people that know, the truth, the easier it would be for Silas to figure out what's going on."

"The joys of having a psychic enemy," Caroline said.

They sat in silence until the flames became embers, glowing dully as the morning sunlight crept into the cave.

"He's not dressing up as me," Stefan said. "He _is_ me."

Caroline frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means that we've got a new doppelganger on our hands."

"Great, because it was so easy to keep the ones we had straight," Caroline said.

Stefan smiled, and if Caroline could find one thing to light the blackness they were facing now, it was that her friend could still be happy - briefly, smally, but happy.

"How did he break free? He was supposed to be stone - did he get blood?" Caroline asked.

Stefan didn't speak. Silas' escape had another reason, a reason he'd avoided thinking about since Caroline freed him from the safe.

"Caroline, Silas said something to me before he put me in the water. Something you're not going to want to hear."

"Stefan, tell me," she said. He was too serious, even for Stefan. She felt something bad coming in her heart, a sinking feeling that threatened to transform into a full-fledged plummet. She prepared herself for the worst. It wasn't nearly enough.

"Silas told me the spell that made him stone was bound by a living witch, and that spell was broken... when the witch that cast it died."

"No," Caroline said and shook her head. "No, no, no, no, no. Bonnie's not dead. Bonnie's alive. She's fine."

"Caroline, has anyone seen her since she put the veil back up?"

Caroline searched her mind for anything that could make what Stefan was saying untrue. "Yes!" she said. "Yes, Jeremy's - " she couldn't finish. Jeremy, the only one who said he'd spoken to Bonnie while she'd been away. Jeremy, who could see ghosts. "No, no, no, no, no," she said over and over, scrambling for her cell phone. She called Bonnie's number, and the phone went to voice mail. She was sobbing and shaking and fumbling with her phone.

She managed to find Jeremy's number. He answered after three rings.

"Jeremy, where's Bonnie?" she yelled into the receiver.

A pause on the other end, and Caroline felt the edges of herself begin to crumble under the weight of a horrible truth fast-approaching. Her lip was quivering, and she bit down to stop it, bit so hard she tasted blood.

"She's with her mom," Jeremy said tonelessly.

"Jeremy, where is Bonnie_ really_?" Caroline asked. There was no answer. The phone dropped to the floor, and she cried out. Wailing, she doubled over. Her face hit the ground. She didn't care. She screamed into the floor. She beat her fists against the stone, then against Stefan's body as he held her.

When she stilled, he set her down again. She stared blankly past him.

He found her phone where she dropped it.

"Jeremy, are you there? It's Stefan."

"I'm here," he answered. "I'm sorry. She - she didn't want anyone to know. She made me promise - "

"Look, we can get into that later. Right now we need Bonnie."

"Stefan, she's gone. She died the night she took down the veil."

"I know. We just need to talk to her."

"Then you need me, too," Jeremy said.


	4. Giving Ghosts the Silent Treatment

"Is she okay?" Jeremy asked as Stefan showed him the path from the cliff to the cave.

"No, I don't think so," Stefan said. "She found out about this in the worst way."

Jeremy winced, and Stefan placed a hand on his shoulder. "That's not your fault," he said and sighed. "It's not like there ever was a good way."

They found Caroline in the cave, poking the embers of a fire long dead and staring into the ashes.

Caroline looked up at Jeremy. She wanted to hit him, to hit anyone. Instead, she stood and embraced him, whimpering softly against his shoulder. "Can you get her here?" she asked and blushed as she heard the desperation in her own voice.

Jeremy's eyes flickered away, and he smiled. "She's already here," he said. "She's been here while you've been thinking of her."

Caroline whipped her head around, knowing instantly how pointless it was. She couldn't see her, couldn't hear her. "Bonnie?" she asked the empty air.

_I'm here._

Jeremy nodded.

Caroline smiled and the tears began to fall fresh. She shook her head to clear it. "Jeremy, could you tell Bonnie that keeping this from her best friends was stupid and mean and – "

"She can hear _you_," Jeremy pointed out.

"I know that!" Caroline said. "I'm not talking to her right now. For growing up with a sister, you know very little about female friendship procedure"

Jeremy grinned.

"What?" Caroline said.

"She's laughing at you," he answered. "She missed you."

Caroline laughed, too. "Tell her I miss her too."

The conversation was stilted, with starts and stops as Jeremy translated for Bonnie's ghost.

"There's a way to take away Silas' immortality," Jeremy told them.

"Is Bonnie saying this?" Caroline asked.

Jeremy nodded.

"I wish I could hear her – maybe you could do like a Bonnie voice, something a little more high-pitched?" Caroline said. Jeremy didn't seem amenable to the idea, and while only one person could see her, Bonnie grinned widely.

From Bonnie's mouth, to Jeremy's ear, and finally to Caroline and Stefan, the plan was relayed thus: _Silas' invincibility was always bound by a balance. By a mirrored vulnerability in someone else, someone who could die – Stefan. Reverse that balance, and Silas can be killed._

"Wait, if this means killing Silas' doppelganger… we have to find another way," Caroline interjected.

Jeremy shook his head. "No, Bonnie says _Stefan doesn't need to die – he needs to take Silas' place. He needs to take on Silas' invincibility so Silas can be killed."_

The cave was silent. Jeremy and Caroline stared at Stefan, waiting for his response.

"She wants me to become like Silas so Silas can be like me?"

"Yeah," Jeremy said. "If Qetsiyah can alter the spell, you can swap. Silas becomes a regular vampire, and you become un-killable."

"Okay, I know Bonnie did not use the word _un-killable_," Caroline said.

"I'm paraphrasing."

"This is why we need the voice."

Stefan lifted his hand, still trying to wrap his mind around what he was hearing. "How would Qetsiyah even perform the spell from the Other Side?" he asked.

Jeremy was quiet, listening for Bonnie's answer. His face transformed, and he seemed suddenly stunned into silence.

"What did she say?" Caroline asked.

Jeremy swallowed. "She said – she said Stefan would have to go to the Other Side."

"Oy," Caroline said. "I don't suppose there's any way draining Katherine would transfer the cure?"

_Nothing so easy, I'm afraid._

Jeremy shook his head.

"Bonnie says if you can find a way to get Silas to the center of the expression triangle in two nights, there's a full moon. She and the witches can cast a binding spell and keep him trapped there. It won't last long. But if Qetsiyah can switch the immortality spell before then, he can be staked. He can die."

"And I can't. Ever," Stefan said. His voice rang with a subtle sadness that confused Caroline. Like the loss of death was something to be mourned. "How would I even get there – to the other side?"

_Let me take care of that._

"Bonnie says she can do it," Jeremy said. "Tomorrow night. I'll meet you at Bonnie's house – "

"No," Stefan said. "It's too risky. Going into town means a chance of running into Silas. If he catches on to any of this, we're cooked."

Jeremy nodded. "Fine, back here then. Tomorrow night you'll cross over. That gives you a day to find Qetsiyah and get her to reverse the spell before the night of the full moon."

Stefan sighed and lifted his eyes to the ceiling. "Okay," he said. "I'll do it."

"Stefan, this is really, really dangerous. Maybe we can find another way," Caroline said.

"It's Silas," he answered. "Anything we do will be dangerous, and this sounds like our best shot. Maybe our only shot."

Jeremy stood. "Tomorrow," he said to Stefan. Before he could leave, Caroline stood.

"Wait," she said and turned to face an open space, six feet to the left of where Bonnie stood. "This is kind of a sucky goodbye, but I want to say it anyway," she said. Jeremy took her shoulders from behind and turned her to face Bonnie. "I love you, Bonnie."

_I love you, too._

Alone again, Caroline and Stefan sat in the darkness.

"Are you okay with this?" she asked.

"Going to the other side, trying to convince an all-powerful witch who's been alone with her bitterness for centuries to do me a favor, then killing someone stronger than anything we've faced before?" Stefan asked, smiling. "What the hell, right?"

Caroline smiled weakly. "No, not that. The invincibility thing. You seemed… you seemed like that wasn't something you wanted."

Stefan paused. "You know, you live a few lifetimes, and you stop thinking about death. It's this thing you never have to know." He lifted a hand to his chin. "But, I don't know. The idea of never having it, of not being able to die, ever…"

Caroline put an arm on his shoulder.

"How are you with all this?"

She laughed humorlessly. "How am I?" she said. "I'm – I'm turned upside down. A few days ago, I thought everything was fine. Bonnie was alive, and Silas was gone. And everyone was okay. But it wasn't real. And now," she exhaled. "Now, everything is on its head. And I don't know what's going to happen. Nothing that was true is still real… you're it," she said. "You're all that's real."

It happened like a reflex. Like her words turned on a switch that made him press his lips to hers. Soft and sad, and more natural than he'd imagined it could be – kissing Caroline – he let his lips linger on hers until she pushed him away, her eyes wide with surprise.


	5. Preheat OtherSide at 350-Prep the Stefan

**A/N: **Hey everyone! I started this a couple nights ago, up with some form of stomach flu that will probably be the death of me (I tend toward the dramatic in matters of minor illness) and wanting to distract myself from the somersaults my tummy was going through. Since then, I've become embarrassingly obsessed with where the heck my own story is going, and writing fast as I can just so I can figure it out myself (hence the near-nonstop updates).

Then, I took a look at the stats, and holy cow are you guys amazing, and kind, and beautiful people! Thank you ALL so much for reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting! You've made my sick heart break a thousand times over. Still on bed-rest with the bleh's, so I'll keep writing a mile a minute, double-time for you guys, because you're awesome. Virtual hugs to all (except those of you with space issues - to you I give respectfully distant thumbs up)! Apologies for the first-draftiness of this all. Maybe after I get it all out, I'll revise into something resembling decent writing :)

* * *

"What the hell was that?" And while this may have been the reaction he expected, it wasn't the source. The words came from behind him. Stefan turned around to face the speaker and found himself unable to process the impossibility before him.

"Lexi?"

She smiled. "How's it going?"

He turned back to Caroline but found her gone. Not just her – everything. He wasn't in the cave any longer. He stood in an empty abyss of grey, cloudy and alight with a faint hazy glow.

"This isn't real," he said.

"Ding, ding, ding. Ladies and gentlemen, the incomparable reasoning skills of _the _Stefan Salvatore."

"Are we – am I on the other side?" he asked Lexi.

"Not exactly," she said. "That comes later. Apparently it's not the easiest thing in the world for someone so – " she walked toward him and gave his shoulder a soft punch, " – solid to come over to this side, so the witches are working a bit of magic over you to prepare your mind for the journey."

"Nice of them to tell me that part. So, where are we?" he asked.

"We're in your head, more or less. The witches are letting your mind straddle the fence a bit – between the sides. Think of it as dipping your toes in the water." She took his hand and grinned. "You get to see me, so there's that."

He smiled back at her. "There's that," he said.

"And I've got to admit," she said. "What's going on in your head is way more interesting than anything on the Other Side." She raised an eyebrow.

"Don't – "

"Why is it the ever-Elena-opining Stefan Salvatore is thinking about kissing his bud Caroline?" she went on, ignoring his protest. "I thought she was your mini-Lexi. Should I be flattered?"

"You should be quiet," he said but laughed as he spoke the words.

"No way. This is the best bit of action I've seen in ages. Do you have any idea how boring the last three months have been? You're the only one on this side who still thinks of me, so I've had nothing but a front row seat to you rotting away at the bottom of a lake."

"Sorry I haven't been more interesting. Had some stuff going on," he said.

"Well, you're making up for it now, aren't you?" she said. Her smile fell away, and she took on that serious tone, the one he heard when he had something to answer for. "Stefan, she's your friend. What are you thinking?"

He exhaled. "I wasn't thinking. I was confused, and – and I've been alone in a box for three months, and this isn't real anyway."

But Lexi was never the friend to let him off the hook. "It was real to your mind. Just what did you think would happen?"

A sort of jolt - a popping in his ears and quick reverberation he felt through his bones, and Stefan was back in the cave, sitting next to Caroline, watching her eyes go wide as she pushed him away.

"What are you doing?" Caroline yelled. She stood and begun to wring her hands. He rose, too, trying to think of something to say, finding no words. The pitch of her voice rose as she spoke. "Stefan, what are you _doing_? I tell you that you're the one thing that I have right now, the one thing keeping me from losing my goddamn mind, and you – you ruin it!" She was near tears. Her face was angry – more than that, it was _hurt_. "You ruined us!" she yelled and shoved him hard for good measure. As his back hit the wall of the cave, his surroundings reset. It all went away, replaced by the fog.

"'Cause that would be pretty tragic," Lexi said, present once more and draping a friendly arm over Stefan's shoulders.

"Are you doing this?" he said, with more than a little accusation.

"You wish," she said. "This is all you, Stefan. I'm just along for the ride."

"I don't suppose you know how long this prepping stage is supposed to take?" he asked.

"You're really tired of me already?" she said and tried her best to look offended. "Or do you just not want to be in your own head right now – afraid of taking a close look at what's running through it? But, what if it doesn't turn out that way?"

The same jolt, and Caroline's eyes, shocked, sea-blue, and an inch from his own. Her breath, catching in her throat and coming in short gasps. But she doesn't push him away. Her lips suddenly on his again. It's sweet, and new, and exciting. They fumble into a bit, and she actually laughs, a genuinely happy sound muffled against his lips that has his heart skipping beats. They find their rhythm, and he tastes her for the briefest of moments before it ends.

"Don't say a damn word," Stefan said into the fog, before he could see Lexi.

"A damn word," she said. The shared cross stare that soon dissolved into a smile. "Fine, you know me – no-opinion Lexi. It's your mess. And it would be a mess." She saw the slightest darkening of his expression. A moment of disappointment that vanished as soon as it appeared. And it was that slightness of expression that had her lending a bit of reckless encouragement. "But just in case you did want my opinion – some messes are worth making."

"I didn't," he said with a smile.

"Of course not," she answered with mock severity. "You gotta wake up now, Stefan."

He felt the air shake around him.

"And Stef?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful with her," Lexi said and kissed his cheek.

The shaking he felt didn't cease until he opened his eyes.

"You sleep like the dead, you know that?" Caroline said to him. "All right, I got more cute things for you to mangle – I don't know if you'll be hungry on the Other Side, but it's probably best to be prepared, so have at it." She pointed to a freshly killed buck, neck snapped clean and lying on the floor.

"I know sleep sounds good right now. What sounds even better is sleep in a bed, but we still have stuff to figure out," she began, her words flying after one another as she picked up speed. "I've been over and over it, and I can't figure out how the hell we're going to get Silas out to the school. I mean, what story is he going to buy?"

Stefan thought for a moment. "Qetsiyah," he said. "He used her, then he betrayed her. She's been stewing in anger for hundreds of years on the Other Side with nothing to do but hate him. She's got to be the one thing he's afraid of. What if we tell him she's figured out a way to channel the expression triangle from the Other Side, to break free? He'd have to try and stop her."

Caroline nodded, then frowned. "But he can get in my head. He'll know I'm lying before I say anything. There's no way to keep anything from him." She plopped cross legged to the ground, resigned. "Do you think he can read minds through a phone?" she proposed. "Maybe I just call him?"

Stefan shook his head. "He's been too smart, too cautious with everything. You go missing for days and then call with a story to lure him out to the expression triangle. There's no way he buys that," he said. "You have to say it to his face, and he has to believe you."

Caroline huffed. "Stefan, how well do you know me? I can't control the things that come out of my mouth, and you want me to control what I'm thinking? It's not going to work."

Stefan laughed at this, and Caroline tried her best to look annoyed but couldn't help smiling.

It came to him, a flash of brilliance, a piece of the puzzle settling perfectly into place. "Caroline, there's a way this works," he said. "There's a way that you can get him out there without him knowing a thing."

"I swear, if you're about to suggest I get a lobotomy – "

"No, this is better," Stefan said. "Are you still taking vervain?"

Caroline squinted, trying to follow his thoughts. "Yeah, but I've been here for three days. It's all out of my system now."

"That's a good thing," Stefan said. "It means you can be compelled to forget all this. You can be compelled to think what you need to be thinking when you talk to Silas."

It clicked into place in her mind. "Stefan, no. No, no, no. Christ, I'll take the lobotomy!"

"Caroline, you need to call Klaus."


	6. Confessions Under Compulsion

"He's going to be insufferable," she whined. She was pacing, had_ been _pacing. She was bound to drive a rut in the ground at some point. "He's going to come in all 'I'm Klaus, and you need me, and doesn't that just give me a great reason to be cocky and annoying and horrible.'" Stefan tried not to laugh out loud at her impersonation.

"You've really got the accent," he said.

"And that's another thing – the _accent_!" she said. "You know, the English didn't start received pronunciation until the nineteenth century, so this whole BBC British thing he does is complete bullshit!"

Stefan raised his eyebrows.

"What?" she said. "I was valedictorian. Unlike the rest of you, I actually made it to a class or two between apocalypses."

"I think he spent some time in London," Stefan said. "And, Caroline?"

"What?"

"You think you maybe want to sit down for a bit? You're giving me a headache." She gave Stefan a look that told him what he could do with his headache.

"All right, look. You're going to see Klaus, and yes, he will probably lord you asking for his help over your head for as long as he can," Stefan said. "But do you think that just _maybe_, some small part of you is dreading this because you have feelings for him?" Stefan tried not to notice the taste of bile those words seem to bring up as he spoke them.

She considered denying it, thought of squirming in disdain and making gagging motions with her mouth. But this was Stefan. Stefan, who saw just about everything she tried to hide from the world. "Whatever feelings I have or don't have or might have can wait. We're dealing with Silas now," she said. "One thing at a time."

* * *

"Well isn't this cozy?"

Caroline woke to a figure, a black shadow in the morning light than shone through the cave's entrance.

"I love what you've done with the place – really has that post-modern starkness to it," the shadow said.

Caroline's eyes adjusted, and she accepted the hand Klaus placed in front of her to help her up. A few feet away, Stefan was standing, brushing himself off.

"Klaus," Stefan said.

Klaus held Caroline's hand longer than necessary before she pulled it back, hoping he hadn't noticed the quickening of her pulse as their skin touched.

"Hello, protégé," Klaus said. "I understand you have quite a good excuse for not keeping touch." He turned to Caroline. "You, on the other hand – you don't call, you don't write. Not until you need my help anyway."

She glanced at Stefan, managing to wordlessly convey, _See - I told you he was going to be horrible_.

They filled Klaus in on what had happened. And as he heard the story, Caroline found herself slightly surprised by his reactions. He seemed genuinely angry at the idea someone had locked Stefan away under the water. He lowered his head and stared at the ground when he heard about Bonnie's death, as though he wanted badly to say the right thing and was ashamed he found no right thing to say. _The softer side of Klaus,_ she thought.

"So," Klaus said when he was fully informed. "You need me to compel a believable story into your head so you can trick Silas into a trap, meanwhile you –" he indicated Stefan " – will travel to the Other Side, get yourself imbued with super-immortality, then cross back over and manage to stake Silas, killing him for good?" He laughed. "You know, the phrase 'just crazy enough to work' is just a saying?"

Caroline shrugged. "You have a better idea?"

Klaus rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "No, I think this one might just be crazy enough to work." And Caroline smiled at him in spite of herself.

"So, what story are we compelling into that pretty little head of yours?" Klaus asked her.

"Okay, so you need to compel me to forget that I came here and found Stefan. I need to be able to think that Silas is Stefan. And I need to get him out to the caverns under the school – the center of the expression triangle. Compel me to think that Bonnie said – "

"Wait," Stefan interrupted. "Silas knows Bonnie's dead. He'll know you're lying if you say you spoke to her."

"Right," Caroline said. _Bonnie's dead, Bonnie's dead, Bonnie's dead. _She forced it down. "Compel me to think that it came from Bonnie but I heard it through Jeremy – that Qetsiyah is going to break out of the Other Side and come to our world."

"Sounds just peachy. But, if you want me to do something for you," Klaus said. "I'll need something from you."

Caroline twisted her face. "I _knew _it," she said. "I knew you couldn't just do something nice. You know, killing Silas is in your best interest, too."

"Which is why I'm only going to ask a tiny thing," Klaus said.

Feeling Caroline was perilously close to throwing a punch, Stefan interceded. "What do you want?" he asked.

"All I want is a question answered," Klaus said. "Under compulsion."

"We're facing a can't-be-killed immortal badass, and you want to play Truth or Dare?" Caroline demanded.

"The heart wants what the heart wants," Klaus answered, smiling and clutching his own chest.

Caroline looked to Stefan who shrugged.

"Fine," she said. "One question – one."

Klaus smiled in satisfaction and took her by the shoulders to square her body to his. He looked into her eyes. "Caroline," he said. "I want you to tell me how you feel about me – how you really feel about me. The truth, all the things you won't admit, even to yourself. I want to hear it."

Caroline felt herself pulling against an absolute inevitability. Her mouth began to open, and it was like watching herself in a movie, unable to stop herself from bending to his words.

"I could love you," Caroline said, staring into his eyes. "You make me feel special and loved and alive. You excite me, and you surprise me. And I could love you." Her voice broke as she said the words, and a sense of achievement seemed to flow over Klaus' face like a veil. He smiled.

"But I won't," she continued. "Ever. I will never, ever love you. And it's not the things you've done or the people you've hurt. It's who you are. You are selfish and twisted and broken. You don't want a partner, you want a pet - someone you can buy and keep. I could love you, but I'd have to hate myself to do it, and I won't be that girl ever again. I spent seventeen years being insecure and needy and so self-loathing that it kept me from being a whole person. But I am whole now. And I want more. I deserve more."

Klaus' hand jolted from his body, and he held Caroline from her neck, her toes skimming over the ground. Stefan was on him in a second, hurling futile blows at Klaus' body. Klaus was too strong; he sent Stefan flying across the cave.

"Klaus!" Stefan screamed. "You gave your word. You compelled this out of her, you wanted to hear it. And if you hurt her for it, you are every bit the selfish son of a bitch everyone thinks you are!"

"Then what could it possibly matter?" Klaus answered and tightened his hand around Caroline's neck. She tried to pry his hands with her fingers, but they met immovable strength.

"Please," she managed. "Please." Klaus dropped her, and she collapsed on the floor. She brought herself to her hands and knees and coughed. Stefan rushed to her side and helped her up. He held her in place as she tried to fly at Klaus.

"You asshole!" she screamed. "You could have killed me!"

"Not like that I couldn't, and killing you is something I could still do," Klaus said. "But I won't. Not today at least, because for the moment we have a mutual enemy. So, do you still want my help or not?"

"Care," Stefan said. "Calm down, calm down. We need him. Okay?"

She held up her hand to indicate she was all right. "Fine," she said.

"Good," Klaus said. "Let's get on with it then, shall we? And then maybe you and your hapless gang of fluffy vampire do-gooders can make an attempt to clear the year without needing my help, and I can get some peace for a change."

Klaus gripped Caroline by the arm and unceremoniously led her out of the cave. "Right, then," he looked into her eyes. She felt the click, that shutoff of her mind that occurred when someone else stepped inside. She hated it, but could only realize this for a moment before the fog took over.

"You are going to drive home. You are not going to remember finding Stefan under the water. You went camping for a few days to clear your head. You'll go home, and nothing will be amiss. You will go to the Salvatore house tomorrow morning, where you will inform your friend Stefan - whom you don't think has been acting unusual in the least - that Jeremy has relayed from your witch pal Bonnie – whom you have no idea is dead – that Qetsiyah has found a way to break herself out of immortal purgatory. Tomorrow night, in the underground caverns of the expression triangle, she's going to spring herself from witch-hell unless your friend Stefan comes with you to stop her. And you won't just say the words - you'll believe them. Because that's exactly the way it happened."

Behind Klaus, Stefan cleared his throat.

Klaus sighed, "And when you set foot underground, you'll remember everything again, and not a second before then. Understood?"

Caroline nodded.

"Cheers, then. Have a nice life, Caroline," he said with unmasked contempt. And he was gone.


	7. Break On Through (To the Other Side)

The restlessness got to him. The worry he felt was like an energy humming and buzzing through his cells. Caroline, flying right back to the enemy, completely unaware of the danger, and completely out of his reach. It was too much to think about. He never should have let her go. Stefan spent the morning hunting and feeding, then pacing the cave. Finally, feeling helpless to do anything but wait – wait for the journey to the Other Side, wait to see if Caroline managed to fool Silas into their trap, wait to see if they were all still alive at the end of it, he sank to the floor of the cave and stared at the wall.

"I thought you left," Stefan said. He didn't need to turn around to know Klaus was approaching.

"Yeah, well. Left things a bit undone, I suppose," Klaus said. He sat next to Stefan and extended a flask, filled with Bushmills Irish Whiskey, 1913.

Stefan gave Klaus a curious expression but took the flask and drank.

"Didn't quite like the way we all left things," Klaus explained.

Stefan smiled. "You do have a temper."

"Yes, well, I thought with this mad plan you've made, you'll either be dead come tomorrow night, or you'll be free of Silas and not needing my assistance for a while. I thought it might be best if we parted friends."

Stefan laughed, astounded. "Friends? Klaus, you realize you might be the one person most responsible for the turmoil in the lives of everyone I know? You think we're friends?"

"Look, if I was limited to only naming people who didn't hate me as my friends, I wouldn't have any," Klaus said.

Stefan smiled. "That's a fair point."

Klaus smiled, too. They sat in silence, until Klaus spoke: "She really said 'never'?"

Stefan nodded. "'Never, _ever_'."

"Well, then I suppose some other man is going to wind up very lucky indeed."

Stefan couldn't place it, where the feeling started. His lungs seemed to drop into his stomach and lurch back into place at Klaus' words. He could only nod in agreement.

"I don't suppose my dear hybrid has made a reappearance?" Klaus asked.

Stefan shook his head. "I think – I think they may be finished. A few calls all summer. That's all she's heard from him."

Klaus closed his eyes for a moment. The news should have been musical. It felt empty. No Tyler, and she still wouldn't be his.

"She told you that?" Klaus asked.

"Well, sort of. I was… sleeping."

"Some other very lucky man then," Klaus said.

Klaus sat with Stefan until the sun's light began to dull.

"Almost time," Stefan said and clapped his hands on his knees.

"You know what they say," Klaus said. "Two's company – a dead witch, a doppelganger vampire, a revived hunter, and an Original are a crowd. I think it's best I take my leave." He rose and began to walk away but stopped. "Tell her I'm sorry, will you?"

Stefan nodded.

Klaus lifted his hand and it hung awkward and uncertain in the air for a moment, until he placed it on Stefan's shoulder. "Take care, then," he said.

Stefan found a host of words that all managed to lodge in his throat. He could only nod.

* * *

As promised, Jeremy arrived shortly after the sun disappeared beneath the horizon.

"Bonnie with you?" Stefan asked him.

_Present._

"Yeah, she's here."

Stefan was more nervous than Jeremy had ever seen him. He did a series of small jumps, looking like a boxer prepping for the ring.

"All right," Stefan said. "How does this work?"

Jeremy looked at Bonnie, who nodded encouragement.

"Okay, so to get to the Other Side without dropping the veil, you need a gate."

"A gate?" Stefan asked.

"Yeah, a single spot where you can pass through," Jeremy said. "And something else – you need a placeholder."

Stefan looked slightly confused. "What does that mean?"

"The balance," Jeremy said. "It all has to balance. You go in unnaturally like this, and something else comes out. It's just the way this works."

Stefan sighed.

"Look, don't worry about it. Just – just put your hand here," Jeremy said and indicated the very center of his own torso.

Stefan didn't seem to understand, but he did as instructed and placed his hand on the place Jeremy pointed.

Not _on _as it happened. Rather, Stefan's hand slipped right through Jeremy's torso as though he were made of water.

"I'm the gate," Jeremy said.

Jeremy and Bonnie shared a smile Stefan couldn't see.

"Witch stuff," Jeremy explained.

"Uh-huh," Stefan said.

Bonnie began to chant in a long-dead language. It was inaudible to Stefan until the words began to sound in his ears, quiet and faraway. At that moment, his hand found something solid. Another palm, gripping his in the center of Jeremy's body.

Stefan's eyes went wide and he looked to Jeremy.

"It's okay," Jeremy said. "All part of the plan."

Then, another voice in Stefan's ears. Familiar, but long gone.

"It's been awhile," the voice said.

"My god," Stefan said. "Is that you?"

"I don't think anyone's ever called me 'god' before. But, yeah, it's me. You wanna do this thing, or you wanna stand around holding hands all day?"

Stefan smiled. "It's been awhile, Ric. Keep my spot warm for me?"

"You got it," Alaric answered.

Jeremy looked at Stefan. "All right, here's the all or nothing part," he said. "You both step forward, through me."

"Ready?" Alaric asked.

"Not nearly," Stefan said. "Let's do this."

In the cave, Stefan disappeared into Jeremy's body at the same time Alaric emerged. But on the Other Side, the ground shook and the air quivered. A high pitched ringing that began, and crested, and wouldn't cease, fell through Stefan's ears. He felt submerged and trapped in darkness, like he was back in the safe and deep underwater.

Finally, "Come to my voice," she beckoned. "It's going to be all right, but you can't fall away. Come to my voice."  
"Lexi?" he asked the darkness.

"It's me. I'm right here," she said. "You have to fight it – it's like quicksand, but you have to fight it."

He swam through air that felt as thick as oil. Finally, he found himself in the grey again. But Lexi was nowhere to be found.

"Lex, are you there?"

"I'm here, but you need to fight to make things solid over here. You have to try, Stefan. Try to make it real," she said. "I can take you to Bonnie."

Then, suddenly, he felt voices calling. Voices he knew – Jeremy, Alaric. He could hear their thoughts, in the cave and thinking of him.

"Lex, Bonnie was in the cave. I can go back, I can find her."

"No!" Lexi said. "Just because you're in the same place on that side doesn't mean you're in the same place here. It doesn't work like that. You have to fight to stay on this side."

He fought against the current, fought to stay in the grey, on the _Other Side_. He shut his eyes, squeezed them tight, and forced himself to stay put. When he opened his eyes, he saw Lexi before him.

She grinned. "Well done!" she said. "You know, usually it's just the witches who get to talk to each other over here. Vamps, we get solitary unless we're strong enough to hold onto each other. I wasn't sure you could do it."

Stefan looked around him. It was the same sort of glowing cloudiness as he'd seen in his dream. But now, there was a stone cobbled road before them. And the hazy light came from street lanterns, lit with green flames behind their glass cages.

Lexi gave him a moment to adjust.

"All good?" she asked, and when he nodded tentatively, she raised both hands, extended in the two-fingered point of a stewardess. She gestured as she spoke. "I'm Lexi, and I'll be your tour guide for the Other Side. We'll ask that you please keep your hands and feet inside the tram, and whatever you do – don't feed the werewolves."

Stefan chuckled nervously.

"Werewolves?" he said.

"Come on," Lexi said. "Let's get you to Qetsiyah."


	8. The Shrine

Caroline woke in her own bed. She extended her arms and legs and reveled in all the modern comfort of a pillow-top mattress. She took a shower, recently fitted to route water from a tank, stored with a vervainless supply. She turned the faucet so the water was hot enough to sting her skin, and she breathed in the warm steam.

She found her mother at the breakfast table.

"I made everything," Sheriff Forbes said. "I know it's not exactly your favorite anymore –"

Caroline hugged her mother. "No, this is great, Mom. Thank you."

"I was so worried, Caroline," she said. "I know you're eighteen, and – and a _vampire. _I know you can take care of yourself, but with this town, with everything that's happened… I was just worried."

"I'm sorry, Mom. I just needed to clear my head, get away for a few days," Caroline said, the words flowing through her like she was reading them from a page.

Then, she felt a tug, an immediacy that seemed to emanate from within.

"Mom, I have to go – now," she said. "There's something I have to do."

Sheriff Forbes frowned, confused. "Care, you just got home," she said. "At least eat breakfast."

"I know, I know," Caroline answered. "I just… _have _to." She stood and bent down to kiss her mother. "Everything's fine. I just have to do something." She turned and was out the door before her mother could say a word.

Qetsiyah, crossing over from the Other Side. Why hadn't she warned anyone as soon as Jeremy told her? When had Jeremy told her? Caroline felt her head swimming. She tried to find the answers to questions that popped up in her mind but kept slamming into walls in her own brain.

All she knew was she had to get to the Salvatore mansion, had to tell Stefan.

She pulled into the driveway and made a beeline for the front door. She flung it open without knocking. Elena, caught by surprise on the staircase mid-step, gasped out loud.

"Caroline," she said. She made her way down the rest of the steps. "I've been trying to call you."

"I'm sorry – my phone… I needed to clear my head for a few days. I went camping," she said. Those same words just rolling off her tongue like they were scripted.

"You went camping?" Elena said with a small laugh of disbelief.

The skepticism was lost on Caroline, who merely nodded.

"Is Stefan here?" she asked. "I need to talk to him."

Elena swallowed. The name still brought on a pang of guilt, a discomfort within her that stirred unpleasantly in her stomach.

"I think so," she said, but truthfully didn't know. He was usually here, but she kept her distance. The house was big enough for that at least. She'd tried to talk to him so many times that summer, but never seemed to find the words. The ease and comfort between them had vanished, and their interactions now were all awkward pleasantries and mindless small talk. That was her fault, she knew. But she'd made her choice. She'd been selfish too long, wanted too many things all at once. So she'd made her choice, and if losing Stefan altogether was her punishment, then it seemed the only thing to do was to keep her distance and hope – genuinely hope – he would be all right some day.

Caroline didn't stop. She rushed past Elena, calling out as she walked, "Stefan!"

"Is that Blondie I hear?" Damon looked up from the sofa in the parlor as Caroline walked in, Elena a few steps behind her.

"Where's Stefan?" Caroline asked.

"I'm doing fine, thanks," Damon said. "Catching up on some reading, enjoying some downtime. How are you?"

"Stefan," Caroline demanded.

Damon looked from Caroline to Elena, baffled. Elena could only mirror his expression of confusion.

"He's in the study – where's the fire?"

"Thank you," Caroline said without breaking her stride.

Damon rose from the sofa, now trailing behind Caroline and Elena into the study. Stefan sat in an over-sized leather armchair, a snifter of cognac in his hand.

"Stefan!" Caroline exclaimed, relieved.

"Caroline," he answered, his voice uncertain. He looked from Caroline's frenzied face to Damon, to Elena – both of whom had the same look of bewilderment.

"I have to tell you something," Caroline said nearly out of breath. "Qetsiyah – it's Qetsiyah."

At this, Stefan rose from his seat and crossed the room in three strides to Caroline. He took her by the shoulders. "What about her?" he demanded.

Damon inched closer to Elena. "Are you as lost as I am?"

She nodded in answer.

"Jeremy called me –"

"You talked to Jeremy?" Elena asked, now even more confused.

Caroline nodded, but didn't look away from Stefan. She had to tell _Stefan_. "He said Bonnie told him something, something about Qetsiyah."

"What?" Stefan asked. "What did Bonnie tell him?"

"She's going to break free," Caroline said. "She's coming over from the Other Side."

Stefan's eyes went wide with fear. His hands fell from Caroline's shoulders. He examined her face, searching, sifting through her.

"When?" he asked.

"Tonight – at the expression triangle. She's going to use the full moon or something. We have to stop her."

Stefan was already walking toward the door.

"Guys, hold up," Damon said. "How does Bonnie know all this?"

Caroline felt a slamming inside her, a wall in her mind she couldn't break through. "I – I don't know," she said.

"Well, we're not taking any chances," Stefan said, determined.

Elena nodded. "Okay, but we should all go. I mean, we're talking about a really powerful witch."

"Fine," Stefan answered. "Let's go."

"We don't want to – I don't know – come up with some sort of plan?" Damon asked.

Stefan shot him a look of annoyance. "The plan is, she crosses over, and we kill her. She's a witch, she's not invincible. Stab her, shoot her, strangle her – whichever is most convenient."

Elena and Damon exchanged a look of concern.

"Are you coming or not?" Stefan asked and walked from the room without waiting for a response. Caroline went after him, and after a brief pause, Elena and Damon followed.

* * *

It was a funny thing, Stefan thought, that in the midst of another world-shattering crisis, with the impending possibility of facing his own death and the deaths of everyone he cared about at the hands of an all-powerful immortal, who couldn't be killed, he could actually be bored. But after what seemed like hours of sameness, walking down a never-ending path, walking into the light of identical haunting streetlamps, then into darkness until the next appeared, the monotony bore down on him like a heavy load on his back.

Stefan walked arm in arm with Lexi down the cobbled street. He could never see more than a few feet into the darkness.

"Lex, where are we going?" he asked. "It all looks the same."

"Joys of the other side, Stef," she said. "The view never really changes. It shouldn't be far. All roads lead to the shrine."

He looked at her. In the fog, he could barely make out her face. "The shrine?"

"Yeah. Wait 'till you get a load of this: so this Qetsiyah was more vindictive than you thought."

"Lex, she killed Silas' soul mate, then created another dimension just to keep them apart for eternity," Stefan said. "You're telling me there's more."

Lexi nodded. "_Way_ more," she said. "She decided killing the girl wasn't enough. Keeping him trapped here wasn't enough. So after she killed his one and only, she cast a spell. She preserved the body of his lover and brought it over here so that when he finally got tossed in the supernatural clink, he'd have to live with her dead, soulless body forever."

"Jeez," Stephan said.

"Jezz is right. We call it the shrine. You'll find Qetsiyah there. She's _always _there. Bonnie will be there, too, waiting for you," Lexi said. "Everyone kind of steers clear of it. You spend enough time on this side you're bound to run into it. But that place has some seriously bad vibes.

Stefan was anything but comforted. But there was no backing out now.

As they walked, another street lamp came into view. But underneath its glow, something different: Bonnie.

She rushed into Stefan's arms.

"It's good to see you," she said into his ear.

He held her face in his hands and brought her forehead to his. "You, too," he said, smiling.

"This is as far as I go," Lexi said. She gave Stefan a bear hug, a hug that felt to him like it might be goodbye. "I'll be right here. Waiting. I'll get you back topside – I promise." But he knew her to well not to hear the doubt in her voice. Stefan didn't want to let go. Something inside him tumbled, and he knew if things went wrong – and so often they did – this might be the last time he saw her.

"Thank you," Bonnie said to Lexi and took her hand to squeeze it. Then, she extended the hand to Stefan, who took it in his own. "It's time," she said. "I'll be with you – every step, I'll be here."

Stefan nodded, and he walked with Bonnie. After just a few small paces, he turned around. Lexi was gone, enveloped in the haze.

"You know, you pulled a bit of a stunt at graduation," he told Bonnie.

She took a moment, preparing her words. "I know," she said. "I told myself it was what everyone needed – just a little bit of time when everything was okay. But – but, it was me." Her words seemed to catch in her throat. "I couldn't say goodbye." She turned, trying to wipe away her tears. "I know it's an awful thing to ask, but can you…"

Stefan gripped her hand tightly. "I'll tell them," he said.

She couldn't find the words to thank him, so she wrapped an arm around his waist, and they walked together until the street went dark, the lamps gone. In the distance, he could see the faint flickering of candles, and they continued on, to the shrine.

"Stefan, I should prepare you for something," Bonnie said.

Stefan managed a wry smile. "It wouldn't be supernatural perdition without some surprises, would it?"

"When Qetsiyah immortalized the body of - of Silas' lover, nature had to create a balance. The same way Silas has you, a version of himself that can die."

"But Silas' lover did die."

Bonnie nodded, "Yes, her _soul_ died. But not her body. Nature struck a balance, made another version of it."

"I have a sinking feeling you're about to use the word 'doppelganger'."

"Yes," Bonnie said. "Silas' lover has a doppelganger. The thing to prepare yourself for - she won't exactly look like a stranger to you."

"You've got to be kidding," he said. "Another one?"

Bonnie shook her head. "It's not who you think," she said. She pointed ahead.

The shrine stood before them, a slab of grey stone, streaked with mildew and surrounded by black candles and a garden of dead vines and rotting flowers. On the slab lay a woman, resting on a bed of thorns and holding a bouquet of dry, blackened roses. Her fair skin was marred by hundreds of cuts, wounds that were forever fresh and red and raw. A dagger, standing upright, was pierced through her heart. Her hair was a mass of disordered, matted curls, tangled into the thorns. And Bonnie was right – Stefan recognized her face instantly.

"Caroline," he said.


	9. Journey to the Center of the Triangle

_Caroline._ He had to remind himself it wasn't really her, to push back the swell of emotions he felt as he looked at the lifeless, broken body before him.

"She was called something else, but that name is dead. Forbidden to know or speak on this plane," said a clear voice reverberating all around him – from the ground, from the air, most of all from inside his own head.

He had the distinct feeling the words were alive, slithering around in his brain like snakes.

From behind the shrine, a cloaked figure glided forward from the dark. Qetsiyah approached Stefan. As she neared, Bonnie held tightly to his arm. To reassure him or because she herself was frightened, Stefan didn't know, but he was glad she was there.

Qetsiyah kept the cloak drawn around her, keeping her face from view. But she lifted a single slender arm to Stefan's face. "How you look like him," she said. To Stefan, her skin was glossy and cold, smooth as a river rock polished by the current.

He opened his mouth to speak and found himself slightly embarrassed when a sound more resembling a squeak than actual language emerged.

The voice was in his head again. "You don't have to say the words. I know what you want," she said as she ran the back of her hand against his cheek. Close to her face, Stefan could see the shadowy features of her face – eyes that glowed with the same green flames of the streetlamps, and a mouth sewn shut. She hadn't been speaking with her mouth, he realized. "I'll give it to you. And I'll have him forever." Laughter rang in his ears, a terrifying, cruel sound that rose and rose.

* * *

"You two are acting weird, you know that?" This from Damon in the backseat, leaning forward between Caroline and Stefan, his elbows propped on each of their headrests. "I mean, shouldn't you be postulating some pointless peaceful resolution to this Qetsiyah problem while I barge in all homicidal?"

Stefan said nothing.

After Stefan had left the study, he'd gone down to the cellar. He opened the locked armory and began removing every weapon – every knife, stake, rifle, crossbow, and sword he could find. He filled duffle bags with it all and somehow managed to shove them all in place in the tiny trunk of his Porsche. Nothing could slow him – not Damon's questions or Elena's concern. Still, with all his preparation, it was afternoon before they managed to pile into the coupe.

Damon slid back in his seat, next to Elena. At that moment, the car lurched forward. The steering column began to shake beneath Stefan's hands. The engine failed, and the car slowed to a stop.

Under the hood, Stefan saw an oily mess of jumbled parts and tubes. Coolant was leaking from somewhere, and thick steam poured upward into the air.

From behind him, Damon spoke. "Thought you always kept this thing tip-top, brother."

Stefan glared at him. "We have to keep moving," he said.

"Relax," Damon answered. He pointed skyward, to the sun. "That look like the full moon to you? We have plenty of time." He took the duffel bag Stefan shoved in his arms and slung it over his back. Stefan gave Elena and Caroline a bag each and slung two over his own shoulders.

Then, without a word, he took off at speed before Damon rushed to catch him. Damon took his brother by the arm to hold him in place. "You want to run the streets of Mystic Falls at vamp speed in broad daylight?" Damon asked incredulously. "You know how many people here are on to our little 'secret' already?"

Stefan sneered back in answer.

"We have almost four hours before sunset. It's five miles," Damon said. "We're not risking it – we can walk."

"Fine," Stefan said and jerked his arm from Damon's grasp. He turned, not stopping for the others as he continued to travel the road by foot.

* * *

Stefan ripped the chain binding the handles of the front doors to the school in a single motion. They walked in, their footsteps echoing through the empty hallways. They made their way to the maintenance hallway, past the signs warning people away from the basement. Damon found the access point to the closed-off underground tunnels in the basement, a manhole cover welded to the ground to keep anyone from going down. He pried it away with ease, and they began to descend the ladder, which creaked and swayed under the stress.

Stefan landed and ventured on, through the black tunnels as the others descended the ladder in the darkness. Damon followed behind him. "Stefan, wait!" he called out. Caroline's feet hit solid ground, and she looked down the tunnel, willing her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Suddenly, she doubled over, holding her head in pain and crying out. It was as if it was being inflated to the point of bursting. The walls she'd found within it had crumbled, and whatever lay behind them was rushing forth.

"Caroline, are you okay?" Elena placed a hand on Caroline's back. The pain was gone, and Caroline stood, facing another obstacle now. How to tell Elena and Damon the truth – so much that they didn't know. "We should keep moving," Elena said as Caroline righted herself.

"No," Caroline answered in a desperate whisper. "We have to stay back. We have to let him go in alone."

"Caroline, what are you talking about?" Elena said.

"I'll explain, we just have to – where's Damon?"

* * *

Damon bounded forward, angry and confused by his brother's reckless frenzy to get to the center of the triangle. He could see in the darkness some, and felt his way along the walls, formed of damp, clotted earth. His hand ran over them, skimming over roots and rocks. Finally, the darkness ceded. There was a light in the distance, candlelight up ahead, at the center of the triangle.

He took a step forward and jumped in his skin when an unexpected hand grabbed him from behind. He swirled around, his hand raised and poised to rip out a heart, but found himself face to face with an old friend.

"Ric?" he said.

Alaric held a finger to his lips, but smiled at Damon.

Elena and Caroline emerged from the tunnel, and the four walked tentatively toward the cavernous opening that was the center of the triangle, stopping at the room's edge. Stefan, already in the epicenter of the room looked around in expectation.

Jeremy emerged from the shadows. "Don't go any farther," he warned the others and pointed to the ground. Looking down, they saw a circle, a crudely drawn chalk outline on the floor. "Vampires go in, they don't come out," Jeremy said.

And Stefan's eyes – Silas' eyes – registered a sudden fearful understanding. He rushed to the edge, and his body met an invisible barrier that flung him backward with an electric cracking of air and a shuddering of the earth.


	10. The Way Back

**A/N:** I am so floored by the wonderfully kind things you've shared with me after reading. You guys are the most humbling, generous readers a girl could ask for.

Also, I realize that five days without an update isn't so very long, but since I've been putting up two or three chapters a day, a near week of hiatus might have some of you thinking I've died. Fear not! I'll be on a camping trip for the next few, but I'll be back on Tuesday, and I'll get back at it – this story has some mileage yet.

* * *

"Where is he?" said Caroline, with an urgency that seemed to echo through the room.

Jeremy shook his head. "He's not back yet."

Caroline lifted her hands to her head, grabbing fistfuls of her hair in frustration. "He should be back by now, shouldn't he?"

"I don't know," Jeremy admitted.

"Does anyone want to fill me in on – I don't know – _everything_?" Damon said. "For starters, why my brother's in invisible vampire lock-up?"

"It's not Stefan," Caroline said. "It's Silas."

Damon's eyes opened wide in surprise, his face registering shock then rage as he looked toward the circle where Silas stood.

"Then where's Stefan?" Elena asked, her voice pitching up and down with frantic concern.

Caroline opened her mouth to speak, but Jeremy took hold of her arm. "Don't say anything," he said.

"Someone better say something," Damon said through gritted teeth.

"Not here," said Jeremy. "He can't read our minds while he's in the circle, but he can hear just fine."

A relaxed, haughty laughter filled the room. Silas, from his prison looked at them with contempt. "Did you figure it out?" he asked. "And it only took three months. Really, a crack team you all are. And, let me guess: now you've got a _plan_? And which one of you is the mastermind behind this?" The whites of his eyes blackened as he spoke. "Let me give you all some insight into how this plan of yours will end: I'm going to kill every one of you. I will rip your hearts from your chests, I will litter the ground with your limbs and stain the walls with your blood. Because this," he punched a fist against the barrier, and sparks ignited and scattered in the air, "Will. Not. Hold."

* * *

Stefan didn't know what to expect as Qetsiyah took him by the hand. He waited for some sort of chant, something dark and foreign that always seemed to accompany a witch's spell. Instead, there was a song. Low, and sad, a melody like a lullaby echoing in his brain. It filled him like warm water, sang through his blood and resounded in his bones. It was a feeling that was somehow both completely new and utterly familiar. It felt like falling in love. It felt like he was a child in his mother's arms. It felt like heartbreak. And then, it only felt like burning. Fire. On his skin, in his organs, in the marrow of his bones. All of it burning to ash.

* * *

"Blondie was the one who found him?" Damon said, more to himself than to Alaric, sitting beside him. They were in the tunnels, a hundred yards from the center of the triangle.

"That's what I hear," Alaric answered.

"_Blondie_? Nitwit cheerleader was the one to outsmart Silas."

Alaric shook his head. "You never gave her enough credit, you know."

"Are you really going to sit here and stick up for Vampire Barbie?" Damon asked, agitation registering on the edge of his voice.

"You remember how bad I got – the other me?"

"You mean the psychopath intent on wiping all vampires from the face of the earth?" Damon asked. "No, remind me."

Alaric chuckled. "You know the only person who managed to make me feel like it was going to be all right?"

Damon raised an eyebrow.

"It was Caroline," Alaric said. "Here's a girl, just had her dad taken away – by me – _I _did that to her. And she's sitting across from me, telling me she chooses to believe I can be saved." He stopped and met Damon's eyes. "Someone who can see good, even in the worst of us. Someone like that, someone capable of that level of forgiveness – of all people, Damon, you might want someone like that on your side."

Elena approached. She and Damon exchanged a look that acknowledged some shared culpability for failing to see what had been right in front of them for months. She took a seat next to Damon.

"Caroline and Jeremy told me… a lot," she said.

"Out of earshot of the dick who's been camouflaged in Stefan for the summer, I hope?" Damon said.

Elena nodded. "Bonnie…" she stopped as she realized her heart wouldn't make it through any more of that sentence. Damon draped an arm around her, and her head fell on his shoulder.

"Do you think this can work?" she asked.

Damon sighed. "I hope so," he said. "I really do."

* * *

When the burning receded, another feeling took its place. An electric current running the course of his veins and pulsing from his heart like shockwaves. Strangely, the feeling wasn't unpleasant. More than anything, Stefan was surprised he was still standing. He looked up into the green fires of Qetsiyah's eyes.

"It's done," her voice sounded. She took his face in her hands and brought it close to her own. "Give him back to me," she commanded.

He nodded. Bonnie, standing behind him, reached for his arm. She positioned herself protectively between Stefan and Qetsiyah, her eyes wide with caution as she and Stefan backed away from the shrine.

They found Lexi where they left her. Relief and pain flickered across her face, and Stefan thought she might burst into tears. Instead, she laughed, unbridled and delighted. She ran into his arms.

Bonnie allowed them a moment before interrupting. "You have to get him back," she said to Lexi, who nodded earnestly as a knight taking a solemn vow.

Bonnie turned to Stefan. "I'll be there. You won't see me, but I'll be there. You can do this," she said and hugged him one last time. "And, remember –"

"I won't forget," he promised. "I'll tell them."

Bonnie vanished.

Lexi took his hand. "I wish we had more time," she said.

"Me too."

"You're like the new immortal badass on the block," she said.

He laughed at the description. "It was… an experience," he managed. "You knew about the shrine – about Silas' lover?"

Lexi nodded, a little guiltily. "I thought you should see it for yourself," she told him. "It's, ah, interesting. The original _you_ in love with someone who's not a version of Elena or Katherine."

He smirked. "I guess now you're going to tell me my destiny is…" he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge her name.

Lexi looked at him. "No, Stefan. What I'm going to tell you is that love isn't destiny. It's a choice. You weren't _destined _to be with Elena. You chose to love her. And you can choose to move on. You _can_ move on – you and Elena weren't written in the stars."

Stefan exhaled.

"You want some friendly advice?" Lexi asked.

"Do I really have an option here?"

"Of course not," she said and grinned. "Stefan, maybe it's just a matter of choosing someone who you're the best version of yourself with, someone who makes you happy. I don't know, someone who can get you to crack a smile every once and while."

He didn't respond. But as she spoke, an image formed in his head, a face that he couldn't quite shake away.

"It's time to go back," she said.

He took a calming breath. He'd somehow managed to fool himself into thinking he'd made it through the hard part.

"Bonnie's right," Lexi told him, sensing his insecurity. "You can do this."

"Okay," he said. "How do I get back?"

"You just have to find once voice. One person who's thinking of you. The way you found me when you came through. Just go toward the voice. You just need one person to get you back." She wrapped her arms around him, and for a moment they stood entwined. "Close your eyes," she instructed. "Listen."

He did. And he could hear them. A clamor of his own name, resounding in their thoughts. And then, one single voice, clearer than the rest. The first voice he heard after being rescued from the bottom of the lake.

_Come back, _it sounded. _Come back. Come back. Come back._


	11. Coming to Blows

"They've all left you," Silas said to her. Caroline sat at the edge of the circle, alone with the enemy at the center of the triangle. "But then, you're always getting left behind. Forgotten. I don't need to be in your head to see the pattern. I can't tell you how much you disappointed me. The first time I saw you, I thought you'd be… different. Strong. But you're the weakest of them all. You're a girl made of empty space, wanting so badly to fill it with someone. Anyone. Practically screaming your loneliness to the world. And no one ever hears it, do they, Caroline?"

Caroline made no indication that she heard his words. Silas struck the barrier with his fist, and sent a shower of sparks flying. She jumped in her skin.

"It's getting weaker, Caroline," Silas said.

She made no reply.

Stefan found her like that, sitting on the floor, her back against the earthen wall. Caroline was hugging her knees to her chest, rocking slightly and staring vacantly at the dirt floor. Stefan rushed forward and knelt at her feet.

_I'm back, _he said. _I'm back._

She didn't meet his eyes, only continued to stare. She bit her bottom lip in worry and held her knees closer to her body.

Stefan tried to take hold of her hands, but his own slid through her as though she were made of air.

"You're not back yet, Stefan," said a voice behind him. He turned to see Bonnie. He didn't know how she'd made it back so quickly, but he got the sense witches moved more freely on the Other Side than the rest of the supernatural beings. Bonnie motioned impatiently for him to follow. He looked back at Caroline, not wanting to leave her side, but he stood to comply.

He followed Bonnie out of the candlelight and into the dark tunnels. His senses seemed dulled. His feet made no sound as he walked, but as they continued he heard voices in the distance.

The others came into focus in the darkness. Damon, Elena, Ric, and Jeremy, sitting in tunnels, each with an expression of anticipation and dread. Bonnie walked toward Jeremy, who breathed relief and lifted himself from the ground. Stefan watched them curiously. They couldn't touch, yet they'd somehow managed to transfer that intimacy into their expressions. Watching them look at one another, Stefan felt a sudden sense of intrusion.

After a moment, Jeremy turned to Alaric. "It's time," Jeremy said.

"Is he back?" Damon asked and Jeremy nodded.

A clattering of footfalls sounded from up the tunnels, and Caroline came into view.

"I don't think it's going to hold much longer," she said.

"Then we should get a move on," Alaric said as he rose to his feet. As the full meaning of his words dawned on Caroline and she realized that Stefan was nearly back from the Other Side, her eyes darted around the room in an attempt to find him.

Alaric issued hurried, wordless goodbyes to Elena and Jeremy, hugging them both – the only family he had left. Finally, he looked to Damon, who met his eyes but could find nothing to say. They clasped hands and drew each other into a solid but fleeting embrace.

Jeremy positioned himself in front of Alaric. He turned to Stefan.

"You know the drill," he said to them both.

Bonnie began to chant, and Stefan stepped behind Jeremy and reached through his back where his palm blindly met Alaric's on the other side.

"Whoa," Damon said. "You know this witchy shit just gets weirder and weirder."

Jeremy ignored Damon. "Now," he said. At the same time, Stefan and Alaric walked forward. The air around Stefan popped in his ears like the elevation suddenly changed.

Then, he felt the heaviness and solidity of the real world all around him. He had to bend over, placing his hands on his knees to steady himself. When he rose, he felt his body colliding with another. Slender arms around his neck and long hair whipping into his face. He hugged her back, but even in his arms, Elena felt far away. He looked up, over her shoulder, and his eyes met Caroline's. And the look they shared was somehow closer than the embrace, warmer, more real. Like he could sink into her without ever touching.

He had to force himself to look away. He needed to talk to her, but he needed to do something else first. Stefan released Elena and looked around him, from one face to the next. Damon nodded in greeting and had a look of sheepish humility Stefan couldn't remember seeing on his brother before. Elena was all tears and relief. And Caroline's face was an ocean of deep emotion that had his heart breaking and soaring all at once.

"Thank you," Jeremy said this to the empty air. Stefan realized it was to Alaric, now unseen on the Other Side.

Damon lifted a bag from the floor, happy to have something to do. He held it open in front of Stefan, who saw an assortment of weaponry inside.

"Dealer's choice," Damon said. Stefan lifted a single sharpened stake from the bag and examined it. He realized that all eyes were on him, waiting. He managed a steadying breath and turned to walk the tunnel, back to Silas.

Silas stood at the center of the circle, waiting patiently and confidently for the plan to unfold, for the plan to fail. Stefan approached the circle like a boxing ring. He paused a moment at the edge, then entered.

The blows began to land immediately. A tangle of limbs and a crashing of fists that fell on Stefan in a relentless procession. The fighting was uneven – Stefan trying desperately to stay in the game, to get out from under Silas. Silas trying to break him apart with his bare hands. Stefan soon discovered that however the scales had been tipped between the two of them, strength was not on his side.

Though soon he discovered, something else was. He saw Silas' next blow coming a moment before it landed, and Stefan lifted his arm to catch it. Their arms locked, Stefan managed to ram his other fist into Silas' sternum. There was a slight cracking under the pressure of his fist, and Silas doubled over backwards. Stefan managed to get his feet beneath them and threw his weight into a tackle. They rolled into each other, slamming against the barrier, which crackled and shook. Stefan tried to utilize the new gift, the ability to be inside the mind of his enemy. But it wasn't quite stable. Silas' moves came in quick flashes. Stefan blocked blows, but Silas used a block to roll inward, stepping inside Stefan's guard. He threw an elbow into Stefan's nose, and Stefan saw a flash of white as he stumbled backward. Silas landed hit after hit, until Stefan fell to the ground, Silas' hand heavy on his chest, his fingers driving inward toward his heart.

Caroline ran into the circle without a thought; she pummeled into Silas. It managed to do little else than to surprise him. He flung her from his back, and she slammed into the wall with a cracking of her skull. She'd flown through the barrier. It was gone now, its power worn to nothing.

Silas looked back down at Stefan, searching his face and finding nothing. A wall where he should be able to enter freely. And for the first time, Silas' supreme confidence was altered. He was unsure. And then he was gone. Too fast to see, he'd run from the tunnels and left them all in a state of broken disarray.


	12. Class In Session

To Stefan, the plan seemed shattered. Its frailty, always there but never quite acknowledged, was now fully exposed. They were left in the wake, unsteady and vulnerable. On his hands and knees, Stefan made his way to Caroline, who was still unconscious on the floor. He felt the back of her head with his palm. Her hair was wet with blood, and there was a small indention in her skull, a craggy place of bone fragments and torn skin that made his stomach lurch as he felt it. He knew she would be fine, knew her body had already gone to knitting itself back together, but he felt a sinking fear at the sight of her lifeless before him.

No one spoke. There hadn't been any contingency, no backup plan. All of it was built so precariously on a sequence of impossibilities: cross over to the Other Side, find the witch Qetsiyah, convince her to help, become infused with Silas' _super_-supernatural powers, cross back to the world of the living, and kill Silas. Everything else having fallen into place, Stefan had managed to convince himself the last step couldn't fail.

And what now?

He looked around the room but found helplessness staring back in identical expressions.

_You're not safe now. Get them in the school._

Jeremy rose and began making his way to the exit in a daze. Finally, remembering that the instructions needed to be relayed, he turned to the group.

"Bonnie says we should go inside," he said.

"Bonnie?" Elena asked in a whisper. She breathed in, and her lungs seemed to swell with a litany of emotions. But she knew now wasn't the time for them, and she swallowed her words.

Stefan looked at Jeremy. His face didn't give it away, but Stefan could feel the fear radiating off him. He was just a kid, Stefan reminded himself. It was time to take charge. Stefan rose, and began to speak with sure words and confident instructions. He spoke like a foreigner returning to his native tongue. His language was practicality and caution and what-must-be-done. "Elena, grab the bags from the tunnels. Damon, take the rear," he said. "Jeremy, stay behind me." He lifted Caroline over his shoulder and made for the tunnels, picking up speed. They reached the ladder, and he hoisted Caroline above him, placing her body on the basement floor. After making his way up the ladder, he leaned to pick her up again, and she began to stir.

"It's all right," he told her as she groaned in his arms. "You're okay."

They climbed the stairs out of the basement to the main floor and found themselves in the empty hallways of Mystic Falls High School. Stefan led the way, stopping to turn the knob of a classroom door. When he discovered it locked, he backed away, letting Damon step forward to kick it in. They filtered into the classroom, and Stefan laid Caroline gingerly on her back, on the teacher's desk. He took a small pillow with a cross-stitched design of apples and pencils from the chair and placed it beneath her head.

Stefan turned to Jeremy. "We're not safe," he said. "Silas could come back any minute."

Jeremy paused, listening to a voice no one else could hear.

"Bonnie thinks she can do a spell from the other side," he said. "Like an invitation spell. Something to keep Silas out."

"Silas isn't affected by invitation," Stefan pointed out.

"_You _aren't affected by invitation," Jeremy said. "He is now."

Stefan found himself encountering something new he inherited from Silas. Qetsiyah's spell was meant as an exchange of immortality, but Stefan was discovering more had been traded between them. He remembered their fight in the circle, the way he'd slipped into Silas' mind. He wondered what else had passed between them, but told himself there would be time to consider it all later and refocused.

"The spell – it'll work on something that's not a house?" Stefan asked.

Jeremy nodded. "She's doing it now."

"And is this keeping-Silas-out spell going to work any better than the keep-Silas-in spell?" Damon asked.

Jeremy smiled. "She says to tell you to shut up."

The spell finished, the group sat in silence and waited. They waited without purpose or direction. Exhausted but unable to sleep, they took their seats in various chairs scattered throughout the classroom. Stefan sat behind the teacher's desk, his eyes on Caroline's face, willing her to wake. He felt the back of her head again, closing his eyes in relief when he found her skull solid again. He brushed her hair with his fingers until all the dark flecks of dried blood fell away.

Time passed, and eventually the darkness was broken by the early morning light from a sun still sitting beneath the horizon. Caroline's eyelids fluttered and opened, and she met Stefan's gaze.

"What happened?" she said, her words uneven and forced through her pain. She turned to her side, and tried to lift herself, but this brought on a dizziness that had her lying back down.

"Shhh," Stefan said. "Don't try to move. You're hurt – "

"I'm fine," she insisted and sat slowly. "Where's Silas?"

"We don't know," Stefan said. "But we're safe. For now, I think."

Caroline steepled her hands to her mouth and closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were brimming with tears. Stefan first thought this was fear but discovered he could see more in her expression, could see right into her. She was happy; he felt it as bath of warmth that pulsed from her skin. He felt her relief wash over him, and they stared at each other until the silence was broken.

"So what now?" Damon asked. "We play lock-in until Silas comes huffing and puffing at the walls?"

Stefan sighed and sat upright. "I don't know. Silas can't get in," he said. "But there's no way of knowing where he is." The questions flowed through him, endless and unanswered. How would they draw him out? And if they did, what then? Silas was still stronger than any of them, than all of them put together. Seeking out another un-winnable battle seemed less than prudent.

"Maybe there is a way to find out where he is," Jeremy said. He stood and pulled a chair beneath the television, mounted from the ceiling in the corner of the classroom.

"You know, those things only get like three channels," Damon said. "So if you're hoping to catch up on your Real Housewives, I think you're out of luck."

"We only need three channels," Jeremy answered. He clicked the set on, and sure enough, the local news lit up the screen. He found the volume button, and the voice of a reporter filled the room.

A woman, standing in front of a gas station, the Texaco right outside of town, spoke clearly into a microphone.

"This was the scene awaiting first responders early this morning," she said. "Our cameras haven't been allowed inside the crime scene, but we're told that crime investigators have collected at least five bodies from inside. There may be more. The bodies found were severely mutilated. Law enforcement has yet to make a statement on possible motives or suspects for this heinous crime."

"Oh my god," Elena said, standing and walking toward the television. "It's him, isn't it?"

Her only answer was silence, confirming and compounding the dread before them on the screen.

A buzzing sounded in the room, and Caroline gasped. Realizing her phone was ringing, she pulled it from her pocket, and Stefan felt her energy go cold.

"I – I need to answer this," she said and made for the classroom door.

"Care," Elena called after her.

"I'll stay inside," Caroline said. "I won't go far."

He felt the guilt immediately, but Stefan couldn't stop himself – he let himself read her, let his mind walk into hers and sense out the name she'd seen flash across her phone screen.

_Tyler._


	13. CH3CH2OH

The feeling that overtook Stefan, the feeling that forced him to move from his seat and walk out into the hallways, he decided to identify as restlessness. Any more thought, and he might have to call it jealousy. In the hallway, he could hear the echo of Caroline's voice in the distance, was in the process of concentrating on the words, trying to make out her part of the conversation when he was interrupted.

"Thought I could use a walk, too," Jeremy said behind him. Though Stefan could sense something else beneath the words. Uncertainty, exhaustion, fear.

Stefan nodded and forced himself to walk away from the sound of Caroline's voice. His eyes scanned the numbers of lockers as he walked, and Jeremy followed behind him.

Stefan stopped in front of a locker. He popped the lock in, breaking the mechanism and freeing the door to open. Inside, the locker was empty.

"Hey, Jer, is Ric still around by any chance?" Stefan asked.

"Yeah actually," Jeremy said and pointed to an empty space of hallway.

"Can you tell him forty-two is empty. Ask if he's got another stash?"

Jeremy furrowed his brow in confusion but answered. "He wants to know how you know about it."

"You were never that stealth," Stefan said over his shoulder. "And you usually had the DTs by lunchtime."

"He's actually over there now," Jeremy said and pointed to Stefan's left. "And he says – "

"One ninety-four," Stefan finished in unison with Jeremy.

Jeremy's eyes widened slightly, his face bewildered. "Can you hear him now?" he asked. "Some side effect of crossing over?"

Stefan shook his head. "I heard him, but it – it was," he tried to find the words to explain it. "It was through you. I'm – "

"You're in my head?" Jeremy finished.

Stefan nodded. "Look, it's not like I'm trying at this," he said.

Jeremy held up a hand to indicate no explanation was necessary. "Yeah, it's just… weird."

Stefan forced a mirthless smile of agreement. Weird indeed.

"So what's in one ninety-four?" Jeremy asked.

"Don't worry about it," Stefan said, and began walking down the rows of lockers. He needed to think, to plan, to have only his own thoughts to contend with. He needed a drink.

* * *

The "End Call" button sounded a chirp of finality. Caroline stuffed the phone back in her pocket and shuffled her feet across the tile, wandering the hallway aimlessly. She peered through the small wire-latticed window of the classroom they'd been in. She saw Damon and Elena sleeping against the wall, Jeremy facing the television, watching the news story still being reported.

She backed from the doorway and continued walking, peeking into classrooms until she saw Stefan, sitting atop a black table in a science lab, holding a bottle to his lips and tilting his head back to drink. The doorknob was broken, and the door yielded and swung forward beneath her hand. Stefan turned toward her as she entered, then indicated a place for her on the table. She took a seat, and he leaned back to collect a glass beaker from a shelf on the wall. Silently, he poured her a drink from the bottle – Macallan, single malt – and placed the beaker in her hand.

She took a swig, felt the burn warming her throat and settling in her stomach.

"I forgot," she said. "I forgot there was a whole world of things happening while we were…"

Stefan met her eyes. "Did something happen?" he asked, and it took some effort not to go looking for the answer himself in her mind.

"Tyler called," she said. "I don't know that I understood any of what he said. Except that it's over."

Stefan stared down at the bottle in his hands.

"I mean it's not like I couldn't see it coming. I've been having a relationship with his voicemail for three months while he's been running around with some _pack,_ finding his inner wolf or something."

"Caroline," Stefan began but couldn't land on the right words.

"It's okay," she insisted. "I'm okay." She sounded surprised that the words rang true. "Tyler never – he never really fought for me. Or maybe that was all he ever did, and it was just too much in the end." She sighed. "Remember when the werewolves took me?"

Stefan swallowed and nodded. Jules and her gang of sadistic dogs. Took her, locked her up, tortured her. Rage began to boil inside him just thinking of it.

"When Tyler found me, it was like he couldn't decide. Couldn't decide if I was worth it. He watched her press a gun against my back, and he just stood there," Caroline said. "And even with everything that came after, all the good stuff, the two of us together – that moment just seemed to play out over and over again. Every time Klaus told him to get out of town," she took another drink. "I know it's selfish, it's not like I wanted him to stay – to die. It's not like I would have _let _him stay. I just wanted to feel like I was worth it."

She felt Stefan's arm fall over her shoulder, and she clinked her beaker to his bottle. They drank.

"You are worth it," he told her, and she raised an eyebrow at his words. "Just – if you ever wonder about anything, don't let it be that."

"God, Silas is on the loose, killing people left and right, and I'm actually talking about my love life," she laughed, but the sound rang hollow.

Stefan watched her face, veiled in a sadness he wished he could wipe away. And finally, he began to acknowledge the feelings that had set in so slowly, he'd been able to set them aside. He could still, he thought. He could force it all back, until the world settled and the crisis died, and the sun shone on them all again. But in their world, waiting for a day like that to come might mean waiting forever.

"Klaus came back," Stefan said. "After you left, he came back." Stefan tried to stop the words, but something inside him knew he had to tell her. He knew he couldn't keep it from her, knew there couldn't be anything hidden. Not if he wanted more.

She nodded, but said nothing.

"He wanted you to know that he was sorry," Stefan said and took a drink to disguise the apprehension he felt tightening along his mouth.

"Well," she said. "That's new."

"Did you mean what you said to him?"

She studied Stefan's face, landing on his meaning. Did she mean that she'd never love Klaus. "Stefan, I was compelled. I couldn't _not _mean it."

He nodded and took a swig from the bottle, relieved.

"You know that thing they're always telling battered women in Lifetime movies?" she asked.

"You think I have reserves of knowledge on Lifetime movies?"

She ignored him and continued. "You know, 'he hits you once, he'll do it again'? Well, maybe in vampire-world, it's, 'he rams a coat rack through your chest and bites your neck with toxic werewolf venom once…'"

Stefan chuckled. "'He tries to kill your friend in a ritualistic sacrifice once…'"

"'He drowns your boyfriend's mom in a fountain once…'" she giggled as she said it.

"'He turns an innocent woman into a vampire and stakes her once…'" Stefan was nearly choking on his own laughter.

"'He compels your best friend to turn off his humanity and go on a killing spree just to amuse himself once…'" they laughed together through the memory of all that horror, because if they couldn't laugh at it, what else was there? Their voices died down in a sort of shared hum. Caroline took his palm in hers, lifted their entwined hands up and let them flop down between them.

Stefan shifted to face her. "I'm your best friend?"

"Well… yeah," she said. "Bonnie's – Bonnie's gone. And Elena and I are on… different paths. And you – you've just always been there for me. Always."

He turned away and smiled.

"Don't let it go to your head," she said and let and good-natured slap fall on his thigh.

He let the moment sit a while. "You're my best friend, too," he said.

They faced one another, and the silence seemed to grow, to expand. And all his hopes rested on it like a bubble that might burst at any moment. The moment shifted, changed. There was no reason for it, but they both felt it. The silence wasn't growing; it was shrinking, drawing them closer, collapsing the space between them. The distance between them dissipated at such an excruciatingly slow pace, Stefan wasn't sure it was happening at all until her eyes were the only things in his vision. When those eyes darted down to his mouth, in just the briefest moment, he felt his heart stutter and stop. He kissed her, and it felt like that first breath of air he took in when she pulled him from the lake.

Her mouth yielded under his, and he thought it might be over, thought he'd somehow invented it all. But then, her eyes closed, her mouth returned the pressure. She kissed him back. The stilted heart in his chest began to pound. Their mouths moved together, and when her lips parted, he thought he might die.

Then, it broke. The moment, the kiss, the swell of something they hadn't even begun to name – it all came clattering down. A noise had sounded from the hallway, and they turned in unison, registering a face backing away from the doorway. Elena, mouth agape in dismay, standing outside.


	14. Apologies, Excuses, and Exits

Stefan hadn't seen Caroline stand up from the table, but suddenly the space next to him was empty, and she was five feet away.

"I have to – " Caroline said, her voice breathless and shaky. "I have to go." She walked briskly to the door, unable to meet Elena's eyes as she passed. In the hallway, she took off at breakneck vampire speed.

Caroline didn't slow down until she felt the rush of fresh air surround her as she flung the doors open and stepped outside. She knew she should go back inside, but the building suddenly felt like a tinderbox full of precarious elements, poised to explode.

Stefan had kissed her. _Kissed _her. And she'd kissed him back. She'd let the dam break, let all the things she'd been telling herself weren't there, rush forth. She tried to find the moment it started, but her mind seemed to twist and tumble whenever she tried to focus, and she discovered there was no moment. There was Stefan, swimming in her thoughts, and for as long as he'd been there, she'd loved him in some way.

It hadn't started; it had _changed_. Changed so slowly she couldn't see it up close. Suddenly, he was the one she needed to talk to at the end of the day, the person she needed to piece her back together when the world bared its teeth and broke her in half. And then there was the rest of it – the way she felt seen when he looked at her, the way she felt whole when she was with him. The way she felt electrified when he'd kissed her. How had that happened, she wondered. How did the safest, most solid thing in her life have the power to burn her skin, to pull her heart through her throat and have her stomach sink like stone?

And then, Elena, standing there looking so stunned. Caroline tried not to resent her. It wasn't Elena's fault that she was so _Elena_. But it was difficult, when Elena was so oblivious to the effort it took everyone else just to get through the day. Elena's life, for all its heartbreak and tragedy, seemed to be accompanied by an ease foreign to Caroline, who was helpless to break free of a never-ending cycle of trying and failing and trying again. She tried at everything, wanted things too much, too hard. She was constantly breaking her own heart from wanting. And now, something new to want, something new to break her heart.

A voice from behind her wrenched her from her thoughts and set her spinning around to meet it.

"Hey, Blondie," Damon called, sitting on a picnic table in what had been known as the "stoner pit" during her years at Mystic Falls High. He rose and walked toward her. "I need to say something to you, so shut up a minute."

"I didn't say anything," she answered.

"I wasn't listening. It's _you_, so I sort of just assumed," he said.

"What do you want, Damon?"

Her exasperation wasn't lost on him, and his tone shed its mocking. "Someone said something to me that made me realize I haven't exactly – I haven't really been decent to you," he said.

Caroline's mouth fell slightly.

"What?" he said.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm still stuck on, someone talked, and you listened."

Damon smiled. "First time for everything, I guess. So being the highly-evolved, self-aware specimen you see before you, I was able to reach the conclusion that I owe you an apology. More than one, probably," he said. He seemed to be preparing himself for something painful, the ripping of a metaphorical band-aid. "The way I was when I came to Mystic Falls – the things I did when I got here. To everyone. You, specifically…"

Caroline realized what he was getting at. She could stay quiet, and he might just stumble through every horrible thing he'd done to her. It might make her feel better to watch him squirm through the words. But Damon's years-past compulsion wasn't an experience she wanted to relive. Not now. She didn't know if she was ready to forgive him, but she could manage something at least.

"Thank you," she told him.

Damon nodded and managed to meet her eyes.

After a moment, she spoke. "Do you know how against the idea of you and Elena I was?" she said.

"I'm pretty sure most of the English-speaking world knew how against it you were," he answered.

"Especially after the newsletter," she said.

Damon chuckled. "Had your reasons, I guess."

"Now – now it's not so – you're _better _because of her, I think." She ran a hand through her hair. "Or maybe I'm just okay with it now because I'm the most selfish, shallow, quintessentially _blonde _vampire that ever lived."

"Am I supposed to be following this part?" he said.

She sighed and shook her head.

Eager to change the subject, Damon said, "You should be inside."

"So should you," Caroline countered.

"Yeah, well. Starting to think Silas is playing his hand close to the vest. I doubt he's coming back here. If anything, he'll try to draw us out. I don't think the Texaco slaughter is the last we'll hear of him."

The thought of facing Elena felt as impossible as taking on Silas single-handed, and she searched her mind for an excuse to stay away. The excuse she landed on brought on a fresh wave of guilt because it happened to be valid.

"Mom," she breathed. "I have to check on my mom – I didn't even think – "

"Care, if anyone can handle themselves, it's Liz. I'm sure she's fine," Damon said.

"I'll go straight home," Caroline said. "He can't come in now. I have to make sure she's okay."

Damon looked for a moment like he was about to protest, but seeming to realize he didn't have a leg to stand on when it came to warning against recklessness, in the end he nodded.

"Be careful," he told her. "Keep your phone on."

She nodded and was gone.

* * *

Stefan lowered his head, trying not to see the horrified look that swept over Caroline's face, trying not to hear the stuttering sliver of a tone that escaped her mouth before she left.

"Please," he said without looking up. "Just don't say anything."

Elena nodded and began to turn to leave but stopped in the doorway and turned around.

"Stefan, I'm sorry – I have to say _something_," she said.

"You really don't," he seemed to plead.

"It's not because of you and me – it's not. It's Caroline. She's my friend," Elena said.

"She's _my _friend."

"Then you have to understand that I just don't want to see her get hurt."

He tried to push it down, the anger he felt rippling at the surface. But left in Caroline's wake, there was a howling pain inside him that wouldn't be quieted.

"You think I'd hurt her?"

Elena searched for the right thing to say. She shook her head. "I don't think you'd mean to, but after everything that's happened – you and me and – and Damon," the words seemed to crowd her mouth as she tried to get them out. "And then months stuck in that safe – "

"And _she _found me," he said, his tone rising. "Caroline found me. And Caroline brought me back. You don't get a say in this, Elena. This isn't about _you_," he said. "And I'm not saying that to hurt you, or to make you jealous. I'm saying it because it's the truth. I – "

"You love her," Elena finished, surprised by the words even as they came out of her mouth. "You love Caroline."

And Elena and Stefan could only stare at one another, never feeling so far away. They'd loved each other, and hated each other, but the distance was new. They looked at one another like strangers.

Finally, she spoke. "Why are you still here?" she asked, forcing an awkwardly stilted laugh. "Go find her."

* * *

A/N: Okay, so writing Elena is hard. Admission: Elena is not my favorite. And while I would kind of _love _to write Elena scenes like this:

"Elena walked in the room, and it was terrible for everyone. She said something dumb and was then blind to all consequences of her actions."

I realize that my reasons for Elena not being my favorite character are really just that she's fallen victim to the curse of many main female characters in young adult fantasies; she's not the first character to get a little Mary Sue'd. Writers have to come up with a "normal-ish" girl to relate to, but inevitably the overused triangle device must rear its head (because these main characters must be so desirable that the hearts of men fall to the floor wherever she walks), drama must abound, and in the end, a lot of main characters just end up unlikeable or unrelatable. And I think that her self-absorption is also the result of every character on the show treating her with kid gloves, so she rarely has to truly, deeply understand the thoughts and feelings of others. So, understanding that the writers aren't _trying_ to make her unlikeable, I've attempted to be a little compassionate in writing her (or at least understanding of the way she might think or act in situations).


	15. Out of the Frying Pan

While Damon Salvatore wasn't exactly eager to discard his carefully crafted reputation for bloodlust and unpredictable perniciousness, he couldn't deny feeling slightly lighter when he reentered the high school. That the feeling of doing a good deed was not wholly unlike the blissful sensation of the first gush of blood from a freshly bitten neck, he took as a reassurance that he was in no danger of going soft.

He made his way back to the homeroom of sorts they'd settled in, and stopped at the door when he saw Stefan walking an adjoining hallway with purpose, stopping at each door to look inside.

"Hey," Stefan called to him. "You seen Caroline anywhere?"

"Yeah," Damon answered. "You just missed her."

Stefan approached, scanning the hallways anxiously. "Where?" he asked.

"She left. She wanted to check on her mom," Damon said.

Damon, unprepared for a blow, was nearly knocked off his feet, steadied only by the impact of his own spine against the lockers behind him. Stefan, his hands gripping Damon's collar so hard the knuckles of his hands went white, clenched his teeth, nearly growling.

"You let her leave?" he demanded.

Damon shoved back, freeing himself from Stefan's grip, and he corrected the fit of his shirt dramatically. "Relax, brother. She said she'd go straight home, baton the hatches, wouldn't let any ancient homicidal assholes inside."

Stefan slammed his fist into a locker, and the door crumpled inward with a bang.

"You. Let. Her. Leave."

"Look, Stefan, she's a big girl. She'll be fine."

Stefan lifted his palm to his face and shut his eyes. "Do you have any idea how much danger she's in?"

"We're all in danger," Damon retorted. "It's kind of been the condition of our existence for a while now, if you haven't noticed."

Stefan was already walking toward the door by the time Damon finished. Damon turned toe and followed behind him. "Is there something I'm missing here?"

"The girl Silas was in love with for two thousand years – she's – she's _Caroline_," Stefan said. "Or, she looks like her. Caroline's her doppelganger."

Damon groaned. "You know, this twinsies thing is starting to wear out its welcome," he said. But he spoke to empty space. Stefan was gone.

* * *

_Home safe._ Caroline typed the words into her phone, then stared at the empty recipient space. Finally, she entered Damon's name, reflecting briefly that it had indeed come to that, and pressed "Send".

She tore through the house, calling "Mom" again and again. She knew if her mother were home, the lights would be on, the house wouldn't be so quiet. She called Elizabeth's cell phone, but the call went straight to voicemail. Caroline walked the circuit of her home again, checking in rooms she'd already checked. The desperation she felt had her mind slipping away from reason; she was about to start opening cabinets and checking under furniture when her phone buzzed in her hand.

It was a number she didn't recognize, but when she answered it was her mother's voice she heard on the line, safe if very worried and a little angry.

Their conversation followed a path well-worn by many conversations that had come before. There was nervous anxiety for the other's safety from both mother and daughter, and an unspoken but heavily implied suggestion that the other should stay out of the way until the business with Silas was handled. The argument of what was vampire business and what was grown-up business never seemed to find its closure. But all of it came from love, and in the end they'd both have to make peace with worry, Caroline and her mother being alike in stubbornness at least.

Caroline sat and realized that in her exasperation, she'd turned on every single light in the house. The brightness inside in contrast to the darkening sky outside made her feel apprehensive, and she walked through rooms, turning out lights, shutting doors and closing curtains. She sat in an armchair in the living room in lamplight with a stake in hand.

The knock at the door echoed loudly in the quiet. She rose to her feet quickly, the door swinging open before she answered. Stefan was on the front porch. At the sight of her, he nearly collapsed in relief, bracing himself in the doorway.

"Wait," Caroline said. "Are you Stefan-Stefan?"

He crossed the threshold in answer and made his way from the door to where she stood in three long strides. He took her face in his hands, seemingly inspecting her for any sign of damage. He drew her into his arms.

"What were thinking?" he whispered in her ear. "What were you thinking?"

She let herself feel all the safety of his embrace, all the warmth of the closeness before pulling away.

"Stefan, I can't," she said, pursing her lips, frustrated that she couldn't find the right words. She exhaled slowly through puckered lips, the same calming breath he once taught her to use against the blood-cravings. She shook her head to clear it, and began anew, with all the determination of Caroline Forbes, valedictorian, cheer captain, and head of nearly every party planning committee of Mystic Falls High School for the past four years. Suddenly, she was all practicality. "Stefan, we're not going to talk about what happened. Because I can't right now. We are facing a life-and-death mega-crisis, and I need to keep it together, which is something I won't be able to do if we have to talk about what happened. So, promise me, we won't talk about it. Not now."

"Care – "

She lifted a finger to cut him off. "Promise me," she said with a tone of helpless pleading.

"Fine," he said and sat down on the couch. She sat on the opposite end, keeping a buffer of space between them.

"Is your mom home?" he asked her.

"No, but she's safe. She's in a house – Judy, the secretary at the station, her husband – he was at the gas station. Mom's staying with her tonight."

Stefan nodded. "Damon called after I left the school. He took Jeremy and Elena to the house before it got dark," he told her. "It's possible he can't walk in sunlight now, part of the spell."

Caroline sighed. "All we had was surprise," she lamented.

Stefan felt the failure of not killing Silas in the tunnels run fresh through him. Caroline gauged the guilt on his face and scooted nearer, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It'll be okay," she said. "He can be killed now, and we'll figure something out. Maybe he doesn't know he's not invincible anymore. He can't know everything that happened – the Other Side, what Qetsiyah's spell did to both of you. We'll figure something out."

Stefan didn't know how long they sat in silence. The words he promised not to speak seemed to collect inside him like the contents of a shaken bottle about to burst its cork. Suddenly, he was on his feet. "Caroline, we can't not talk about it."

She rose with him, an outward expression of the escalation. "You promised," she said sternly.

"You can't do that. You can't put caveats on what I can talk to you about.," he said, hearing the neediness in his own voice and not caring. "That's not what we are. You're the person I talk to."

"I don't know what we are now, Stefan," she said, feeling the pinch of oncoming tears at the inner corners of her eyes.

"Then let's talk about it," he said. "I care about you, as my friend, but – but as something more, too."

She began to cry and was humiliated by it but powerless to stop herself. She turned away from him and covered her face, but he turned her around, pulling her hands down and lowering his head to meet her eyes.

"What is it?" he asked, desperate to take away the pain he saw in her eyes.

"It's Elena, Stefan," she cried. "It'll always be Elena. She's your epic love, she's your fate or destiny or whatever. And, yes, she's with Damon now, but what happens when she wakes up one day and realizes the mistake she made by not choosing you?"

He sank back into the sofa and stared at the floor as he spoke. "Caroline, I used to be so _full_ of her," he couldn't seem to find the way to explain it, but he pushed forward. "But now, I look inside myself, and it's not her who's there. It's not. It's you."

His words had an unraveling effect within her. She felt like all the bits that made up her body were drifting outward, floating.

"Who I love, it's not destiny, Care. It's a choice. And I love you," he said. "And I don't know when it started, but it's there. I know it's there."

She let out a sob, an embarrassingly noisy, glottal thing, and wiped her eyes. "I love you, too," she said. "But it hurts. Loving you actually hurts – _here._" She beats a place at her center, at the base of her ribcage with a curled fist. "It shouldn't hurt like that, Stefan. It's too much to risk. _We're_ too much to risk, and I just can't watch us decay. I can't lose you."

Her words carried a finality that settled in his heart like a breaking. He couldn't stay, couldn't let her see the pain set in.

"Okay," he said. "Okay." He rose and looked at her face. "I'm going to go to the house, check on everyone. Stay inside. Don't go to the door for anyone. We'll – we'll figure something out in the morning."

She wanted to ask him to stay, to beg him not to go. But she couldn't manage to say anything at all, and she watched him walk out the door, heard the whoosh of air as he ran into the night, and was left alone in the empty silence that remained.


	16. And Into the Fire

It was in the vacuum of his absence that Caroline discovered the error in her conclusion. It wasn't a lie, exactly, but a miscalculation. That hollow in her middle, the gnawing, acidic feeling, didn't abate. Instead, it seemed to deepen and rage within her. As the ache intensified, she began to understand it better. It wasn't the love she felt for Stefan that hurt her. That was a river of warmth that flowed through her veins, a current that seemed to wash over her skin. No, the pain was all her own. And it was all fear.

She was afraid of what she'd always been afraid of: that she wasn't good enough. But hadn't he told her she was? Told her she was worth it, told her he loved her. And here she was letting it all slip away because of her own insecurity.

She made a choice, then and there. A choice to not trust the worry inside her. She chose to trust him instead.

He couldn't be more than five minutes ahead of her. She slipped on a pair of shoes and flew for the door. On the porch, she discovered he was significantly closer than she'd thought.

He sat on the front steps, head in his hands. He turned to look at her when she opened the door. She sighed relief and sat beside him, taking his hand in hers and looking into his eyes.

"I was so stupid," she said.

"Yes. You were," Silas grinned.

* * *

Stefan slammed the door behind him so hard that all eighty-four windows of the Salvatore house rattled in their frames. In the living room, Damon's face registered curious surprise at the outburst, but Elena caught his eye and gave him a look that told him to keep his mouth shut.

Stefan walked into the room, finding a bottle before he sat. He uncorked the bottle but seemed to think better of it and placed it on an end table without drinking.

"Everything okay?" Damon ventured.

"Fine," Stefan said through gritted teeth.

"Caroline's all right?" Elena asked.

"She's fine," Stefan answered with more venom than he'd intended.

The anger-laced tone had Damon treading carefully. "I, ah, talked to Liz," he said. "She said they're spinning this as a crazy drifter on a killing spree. Didn't think the usual animal attack story was going to fly. They've instated a temporary curfew, so the good town folk should be safe for the night."

Stefan nodded but said nothing.

"Jeremy's here," Damon continued. "He's asleep. We should _all_ probably get some sleep."

"I'm fine," Stefan answered. "I'll sleep when this is over."

Damon and Elena exchanged glances.

"We don't know when that's going to be, Stefan," Elena said.

Stefan could feel the concern coming off them in waves. It seemed to stifle the air around him, made it difficult to breathe.

"I said I was fine."

"Okay…" she answered uncertainly. "I'm going to bed." She walked to the door and looked back at Damon. Damon looked from Stefan to Elena and back again.

"You go. I'm not tired yet," he lied.

She nodded and issued a small smile of understanding before leaving the room. Damon rose from his armchair and found two tumblers, which were in no short supply in the Salvatore mansion. He walked to the sofa Stefan sat on, grabbing the bottle he'd discarded. He poured their glasses and placed one in Stefan's hand.

"If you're not going to talk, drink," he said.

Stefan brought the glass to his lips and tilted it upward.

* * *

The streets of the town were lit but empty and silent. Its residents having been warned to stay indoors, Mystic Falls had the eerie, abandoned feel of a ghost town.

Caroline refused to take a single step. She was powerless against Silas' strength. She couldn't break free of his hold, but she denied him any ease in the journey. She dug her heels in the earth as he pulled her forward. He held her with his arm hooked over her neck, pulling her along their path. She made him drag her the whole way. He paused in the manicured lawn of the town square to tear a wooden beam from a park bench. It broke free in a provisional stake of sorts, with two jagged ends. She swallowed her fear as he held one of these points at her chest.

It was theatrical, she told herself, a display of his power. A move designed to let her know that he could end her life with the slightest pressure.

"What do you want?" she asked.

He slowed for a moment, considering her question. Then, with renewed determination, he quickened their pace.

"What I want, I can never have – thanks to you and your friends."

She shuddered at the sound of his voice. Stefan's voice, but instilled with a malice he could never have.

"And when the _only _thing you want is taken from you, what's left?" Silas asked.

She pushed hard against the arm that held her, trying to break free as he spoke. He seemed to not notice the effort. He pulled her forward, singularly motivated in their forward progression.

Her efforts to escape became little more than whimpers in his clutches.

"And you, you for last," he said as she squirmed and struggled. "You'll watch their hearts torn from their chests. You'll see their immortal bodies fail."

"Why?" she said, and her words clung desperately to the emptiness. "What did I _do?_"

His arm jerks tighter around her neck. "It's what you didn't do," he said. "It's what you can't do, who you can't be."

She couldn't make sense of his words, but they held a fixed intent, an impossibility she couldn't meet. She felt resigned, as though inevitability had wrapped its arms around her and had begun beckoning her toward the darkness.

"Immortality is not deathlessness. No one lives forever," he whispered in her ear. "Almost no one."

The fear his words were meant to incite instead brought another feeling: comfort. He didn't know. He didn't know that a splinter of wood was all that stood between him and death's finality. She found courage in his words: Silas has misunderstood the _he_ who lives forever. She might die. He might bookend her life with the pressure of jagged wood to her heart, but Stefan would live.

Compassionless, Silas pushed her forward. She began to understand their intended pilgrimage. They were headed toward the Salvatore Boarding House.

_Stefan, _she thought. And his name didn't cease in her mind. _Stefan. Stefan. Stefan. _

* * *

"Caroline Forbes," Damon said incredulously.

Stefan had talked after all. In Damon's presence, Stefan found the words simply drifted out, seeking assurance or solidarity or nothing at all, he wasn't sure.

"Caroline," Damon said again. "Caroline?"

Stefan lifted his empty glass without answer, and Damon distributed a two-finger pour into the tumbler.

Damon didn't mince words, which was strangely a comfort to Stefan. Damon didn't coddle or console his brother. He only sat, only drank.

Stefan felt before he heard. He felt an inconsolable fear, a terror beyond his reach. _Caroline._

He sat upright, full of trepidation. Damon seemed not to understand the change. He raised an eyebrow at his brother's shift in posture.

"Salvatore!" came the call from outside, clear and cruel.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm sorry for the longer-than-usual chapter updates since I've been back. Honestly, as I get further and further into this story, I find hang-ups await me at the most inopportune moments. Plot is all worked out (it only took me 12 chapters, but I finally realized I had better work out an ending to this tumultuous story), but emotional scenes that pop up as I delve deeper into characters take a lot out of me. It might feel a bit silly to put so much into thinking about how a certain character in a fanfic would act, but at this point, I feel I owe it to you guys to stay as true to the established elements of this world as I can.

I think the first two paragraphs (Caroline's reaction, that I'm still not 100% happy with) took longer to write than the whole of this chapter.

Anyway, as a not-quite writer, I can't express in words what the reader response has meant to me. This is my first story available to any sort of readership – public or private – in over five years.

I shy away from using words casually, especially words that should have meaning – gravitas – when used, but I say without hesitation: I love you all. That love may be anonymous, may be issued virtually, but it is there all the same.

~Lilabeth


	17. Yla

An explanation is definitely owed for this super-long hiatus. A couple things happened, and if you're interested, it's at the end of the chapter. It reads something like a twelve-year-old's whiny diary entry, so feel free to skip it J Thanks for all the encouraging reviews during my fairly long break from writing this.

* * *

"Stefan, wait!" Damon shouted. Stefan gave no indication he heard the words. His movements were as involuntary as a reflex. Damon found himself once again forced into acting the part of rational brother to compensate for Stefan's newfound inability to grasp logic of the not-getting-everyone-killed variety.

"Stefan!" he shouted again.

As Stefan ignored Damon and made for the front door and Damon followed Stefan, footsteps clomped down the staircase. Elena and Jeremy rushed down, apparently having been woken by the noise.

"What's going on?" Elena asked.

No one answered. Stefan wasn't listening, and Damon was occupied, trying to prevent his brother from doing something stupid.

"You can't go out there," Damon said, attempting to take Stefan's arm. Stefan shook his arm free with a hard jerk and continued.

"You will get her killed," Damon said, loudly and clearly, enunciating each syllable so there could be no misunderstanding. Stefan froze at the words. "_You _attack Silas, and you might come out standing. But how fast can you get to him, Stefan? You think you can reach him before he stakes her? 'Cause that's all it takes, just a little pressure right _here_," he punched Stefan in the chest. "And she's dead."

Stefan brought his palms to his face and felt two terrors wash over him – one that he could feel from outside his body, belonging to Caroline, out of reach and in imminent danger; another, his own fear at the thought of anything happening to her. He knew then that there was a place the soul could go, beyond desperation, beyond need, beyond despair. He felt helpless to do anything but come apart at the seams.

"I can feel everything she feels," Stefan said, pleading to no one in particular. "She's scared. And she's hurt. And she's alone."

"Then change it," Jeremy said.

If there was a solution to be found in Jeremy's words, Stefan couldn't see it. When he did nothing but stare back, mouth agape, Jeremy repeated more forcefully, "_Change it,_" he said. "Change what she's feeling."

Stefan's expression remained unchanged.

"He's right," Damon said. "Silas – he didn't just read our minds. He made us see things that weren't there, think things that weren't real."

Stefan shook his head. "I don't know how. I don't know how _any _of this works. I can't even control what I let _in._ I don't know what would happen if I tried to put something out."

"Try," Elena said quietly. "We know he's planning on killing us all. And if she's out there with _him _scared out of her mind… if you can calm her down, maybe you can buy her time. Buy us time to help her. You have to try, Stefan."

Try. Try to feel Caroline's fear like something solid in his hands, try to mold it like a lump of clay into something else. Something better. He shut his eyes tight, so his brow furrowed and his nose wrinkled. He could feel the terror pulsing with her blood, could feel the lonely desperation that coursed through her.

He heard a litany of thoughts rush through her mind, and they all sounded like last wishes, like the regrets of the dying for what they failed to do in life. Some thoughts he expected: she wouldn't see her mother again, she wouldn't be able to say goodbye to her, to _anyone_. Other thoughts seemed to float up from nowhere, like balloons with cut strings. The book with pictures on the coffee table since she was eight, the one with photographs of the temple of Angkor Wat. She'd looked at it a thousand times, the pictures of ancient towers and faces cut intricately out of stone. She'd never see it. She'd never see any of the world. She'd die where she was born, never having left Mystic Falls.

And then something else floating through her mind, something that brought more sorrow and pain than all the rest of it. She hadn't told him. She loved him. She wanted to be with him, more than anything, and the last words she'd spoken to him sent him away. He wouldn't know.

_She loved him. She loved him. She loved him._

"I need to see her," Stefan said. "I feel blind right now. I can't do it if I can't see her."

Damon seemed to understand this was non-negotiable.

"Okay," he said. He peeked through a crack between the drapes. "They're on the lawn, between the oak and the willow. The east hedge is close. Should give us some cover."

"Won't he hear us?" Elena asked.

"No, no no no no. You are not in this _us _right now. Too dangerous. You are inside with little brother providing some distraction."

Damon didn't give her a chance to protest. He turned to Jeremy. "In the den, the big cabinet against the wall. It controls all the speakers. There're speakers outside, on all the patios and the balconies. Turn them all on. Turn them as high as they'll go."  
Jeremy nodded and made for the den.

"I can help," Elena said.

"Nope," Damon answered.

"_Listen_ to me," she said. "He's got vampire hearing, Damon. It might take more than some bass to fool him. The hedge on the west side of the lawn. It's further from Silas. I go down that hedge while you and Stefan go up the other. I'll keep out of sight. And he won't know who's where."

Damon sighed resignation. "You promise me – "

"I'll run," she said. "If anything happens, I'll run."

Damon pulled her close, brought his lips to her ear and whispered, "Stefan, Caroline, _me_… you leave us to die and you run."

She was surprised by his frankness, by the protective desperation on the edge of his voice. She knew that if it came to it, she wouldn't be able to leave them, but she nodded.

"Back door," Stefan said. He reached into a black duffel bag that had been discarded in the foyer and removed three stakes. Two he tossed to Damon and Elena, one he tucked in the back of his pants.

* * *

"They really aren't coming for you," Silas said.

Despite herself, Caroline was crying. She told herself she wouldn't give himself the satisfaction, but in the end, she couldn't help it.

"I know you're the one on the outside of it all, the girl who gets forgotten in all the rush to care for Elena, but I really did think they'd come for you."

Caroline hated how pathetic he could make her feel. She sniffled and struggled weakly against his arm.

_Stefan, where _are _you?_

"I thought they were your friends," he teased. "I wanted them to see it. I wanted them to see you go ash-grey and fall to the ground. And now it's just us, just you and me who'll get to be here for your last – "

Suddenly music sounded so loudly, Caroline was sure it made even Silas jump with surprise. Music so loud, the speakers crackled and buzzed.

An accordion wailed all around them, in the trees, in the gazebo up the drive, from the second story balconies of the Salvatore mansion.

A voice cried out in the night, a singer with a rough, world-hewn gravely voice.

_ My car goes, 'Chicago_

_ Every weekend to pick up some cargo _

_ I think I know the bloody way by now, Frankie_

_ Turn the goddamn radio down, thank you_

"I stand corrected," Silas said, grinning with malice.

He squeezed her tighter, slowly, and she thought that it was so like a snake that coiled its prey. She saw him twirl the broken plank from the bench in his hand playfully.

"I so wanted them to see it," he smiled.

* * *

"She's panicking," Damon spoke quietly. They'd crept the line of the thick hedge, low to the ground. Now they were as close as the hedge would bring them to Caroline and Silas. Music blared from the outdoor speakers.

_ Bang bang bang went Frankie's gun_

_ He shot me down, Lucille_

_ Bang bang bang went Frankie's gun_

_ He shot me down, Lucille_

Peering over the bushes, the brothers could see Caroline in Silas' arms, maybe twenty feet away. She was shaking, crying and whimpering.

"Well?" Damon said.

"Well, what?"

"You wanted to see her," Damon said. "There she is. _Do _something."

Stefan decided against trying to explain that it wasn't that simple. Maybe it was that simple. He took a calming breath and looked at Caroline across the darkness. At her, in her.

Inside, he felt like trying to hold her emotions was like trying to hold water in his fingertips. Now, they were solid somehow. Malleable.

_It's okay. It's all okay. I'm here._

He thought this as hard as he could. Thought it until he thought his head might split.

_Nothing's going to hurt you. I'm here._

It felt like a lie. It felt like a medic administering morphine to a dying man on the battlefield, telling him it wasn't so bad, that he'd be just fine. All the while his body ran dry of blood and his heart slowed and his chest rattled with death. But those were the good lies, weren't they?

_I love you._

That wasn't a lie. That was a bright burning truth.

* * *

Like stepping into a warm bath, like being cloaked in impenetrable armor. Like being drunk. Like being loved.

It all washed over her like so much rain. She suddenly felt invincible.

She suddenly felt _angry_.

"You know what I don't understand?" Caroline asked. The whimpering had ceased. So had the trembling. She was still, and she was steady. And she was furious.

Silas was surprised by the sudden change. He let loose a small amused burst of laughter.

"What's that, Caroline? What don't you _understand_?"

"Why you stayed. Here in Mystic Falls. You wake up after a thousand years. You could go anywhere. Do anything. And of all the things you could do, you decide to take over someone else's life. Live in his house, playing pretend with his friends and family."

"You don't know anything," Silas said loudly, but his voice faltered. It hitched with an uptick of anger.

"You know what I think?"

Silas didn't respond. He held her tighter, gripped the stake so hard the wood dug into his palm.

* * *

"Okay, I don't think she's afraid anymore, Stefan," Damon said, watching the scene unfold before them. Caroline shouting, Silas tensing with rage. "Pull back."

Stefan looked at his brother helplessly. "I don't… I don't know how."

"I don't know that hulking her out is helping matters, brother. He looks ready to kill her."

* * *

"I think you're just a sad lonely kid. Your plan didn't work out, the cure's gone, so now you're going to try to kill us one by one." Caroline was spitting the words at him.

"I _am_ going to to kill you one by one."

"Because that's such a healthy response. You lost your seat at the dinner table, so you're burning down the house. You're a child, Silas. A sad, lonely little child."

He poised the stake, began the down stroke. When _she _emerged from the edges.

Just as he remembered her. In a pale blue tunic that hung loose at the shoulder and gathered in a sash at her waist. Her feet were bare, and her hair fell over her shoulders and down her back.

"Eee-lah," Caroline heard Silas say. Two strange syllables that meant nothing to her. But the woman meant something. More than something. She was staring at herself.

* * *

"Yla," Silas said, sobbing now. The stake had been dropped to the ground.

Stefan walked forward, slowly. Letting himself be a mirror for the thoughts Silas held so deep down it strained him to access them. _Yla _was her name. Yla on the shrine. Yla the only softness left in his heart.

* * *

So, why'd it take for forever to get a new chapter up?

Few minor things: my computer broke up with me. It packed its bags and moved out and wouldn't come back until I showed up at its place with a boombox over my shoulders. Really, it was just at Apple for a bit.

Then, I moved. Moved out onto a piece of land I bought in the middle of nowhere. Into a cabin I've been trying to make livable for a while. Oh, and there's no electricity or running water. So I'm basically camping. Forever.

But I got settled, I got used to using less electricity (everything I use runs off of solar generators), bathing by simultaneously dumping water from a jug and scrubbing down in a bathing suit outside (this is nothing like a hot shower), and eating out of a cooler (the ice melts in three hours, but hey! Adventure).

And then, when nothing was in the way of writing, something weird happened. I got creatively depressed. Not actual depressed, just completely uninspired to do anything. Usually I crave a creative outlet as sure as I crave food and water. But suddenly, all the stuff that used to make me happy just didn't do it. I couldn't write, couldn't paint, couldn't even read. I just sort of sat around in the cabin, hot and miserable, feeling too lazy to do anything, and then feeling lazier for doing nothing. Honestly, this creative slump was probably 90% to do with being in an un-air conditioned, unfinished space, sweating my ass off every day. I don't know how many of you live in a region of heat, but 100 degree days and 85 degree nights without air conditioning for a month is kind of draining. Especially when you work from home and so have no break from the heat.

Finally, I just decided to acclimate, to force myself into doing things that made me happy before in the hopes that they would again. Started slow. I read a book last week for the first time in a month. Then I read another, then I read a comic, then I put on some Iron & Wine and started filling the idea book with every creative endeavor I could think of. Then, finally, I returned to this story and finished out the plot. I realized I was so near the end that I had to push through. And it made me feel better J Thanks for sticking with me.


	18. My Shadow Self

Unable to process what she saw before her, Caroline couldn't manage to will herself to action. Silas' arm, which had just moments before been holding her so tightly she couldn't move at all, was now draped loosely across her chest. She could break free. She could run to safety.

But this woman – this woman who was and _wasn't _her – seemed to have dislodged something, some bolt, now stuck irrevocably in the gears of Caroline's mind. The impossibility of it froze her in place. So she stood still and dumbfounded as Silas behind her.

The woman walked forward, and Caroline heard Silas' breath catch in his throat. The music had stopped, but it seemed there was a different musicality to be heard in the quiet, an eerie melody made of the wind rushing through the leaves and the chirping of crickets and the woman's slow footsteps on the damp grass.

The woman opened her mouth and spoke a single word.

"Silas," she said.

Caroline finally managed to react.

"What the f – "

_Shhh, _said Silas.

No, not Silas. Silas was standing right behind her, his mouth inches from her ear. The voice came from somewhere else. From inside her own head it seemed. Not Silas's voice. Stefan's? She looked around the lawn, expecting to see him in the darkness. _Where are you? _ she thought desperately.

So quickly she almost missed it, the woman's eyes darted briefly over Caroline's face. That flash of contact was enough for Caroline to understand. Stafan was _her_, the woman who looked just like Caroline. The woman who stunned Silas into limp awe. The woman he called _Yla_.

_Bite_, Stefan said, his voice echoing inside her head.

Caroline understood. She lifted the arm around her and sunk her teeth into its flesh. Her mouth welled with warm blood. Her teeth sawed into bone, and she clamped her jaw tighter. Silas sounded a howl of pain and threw Caroline from him reflexively as swatting a mosquito. She smashed into the oak face-first, sure she'd broken her nose. The branches overhead moaned at the force and discarded a flurry of fluttering leaves. She wiped her mouth and spat again and again until she couldn't taste Silas' blood on her tongue anymore.

Caroline swung around to see a blur of action so fast she could swear it was all over in a second. Only in remembering would she be able to arrange the chain of events somehow compacted in an instant.

This is how it happened.

Stefan rushed Silas as soon as Caroline was out of the way. He somersaulted forward as Yla but rose as himself, the fallen plank now held firmly in his right hand.

Silas' face was all rage as he understood the trick that had been played, the weakness that had been used against him. He caught Stefan's arm in hand before the stake could be thrust into his heart. Silas brought his head crashing down on Stefan's chest. It landed with a resounding thud, the whooshing expulsion of air from Stefan's lungs, and the cracking of three ribs broken in unison.

As Stefan stumbled backwards, Silas took hold of the stake and without hesitation, plunged it into Stefan's chest.

Stefan's face seemed to break apart with the searing pain of the wood piercing his heart. And for a moment, Silas grinned victory. Veins began to blacken and protrude from Stefan's neck and the edges of his face. All his color faded, and his skin took on a stony shade of grey.

But he did not fall.

His blackened veins began to pulse. The black receded, giving way to a bright coursing red. His color returned, more vivid, as if his skin were giving off its own light in the dark. The whites of Stefan's eyes filled with blood.

Silas' expression fell, and he began to step back, but in a flash Stefan's arm shot forth, taking hold of Silas' wrist to keep him in place. Then, Stefan pulled Silas close. From the outside, it looked almost like a brotherly embrace.

But between them, the other end of the wooden plank still embedded in Stefan began to break the flesh of Silas' chest. Stefan pulled Silas tighter. He wrapped his arms around Silas, and the splintered, jagged wood pierced deeper, until it lodged itself in Silas' heart.

Silas' face altered. It journeyed through a series of expressions. Shock, then pain. And finally, understanding. As Silas felt the darkness opening to swallow him, he saw the meaning of the minds blocked from his, of the houses he could no longer enter. Of Yla, who was never really there, and of Stefan's power to take on her visage. He did not see his life flash before his eyes. He saw only glimpses of his mistakes, missteps and miscalculations made of his own hubris.

The last words he heard were Stefan's, and Silas heard them not with his ears, but in his head.

_My shadow self_, Stefan said. He pulled the stake from his chest and let it fall with Silas' body to the ground.

Stefan watched the life drip from Silas until his form was soulless and still as a statue. He felt relief, but beneath it lie a sadness that seemed to hum softly in his bones. He could still picture the look on Silas' face when he saw Stefan as Yla emerge from the shadows. The sorrow and hope that overtook him was a tragic, private thing exposed. And ultimately it was used to kill him. Silas had been broken long before he came into their lives. He'd held himself together with cruelty and revenge for so long. And now he was gone.

And Stefan knew where he was going. A place where he'd never escape the ever-present shrine. His lover's lifeless body on an altar of rot and decay. Stefan felt relief, yes. And pity.

When he looked up, he saw faces staring back at him. Watching, waiting.

The red of his eyes gave way to white, and his veins sank below the surface of his skin. He looked himself again.

When he met Caroline's eyes, he felt the pull of an undeniable force. He couldn't remember crossing the lawn, but in the next instant she was in his arms. He kissed her on the mouth, hard. And he felt her arms strong around him, pulling him closer.

A few feet away, Elena closed her mouth, which had somehow fallen open. She looked away from the kiss, out of politeness and something else she couldn't bring herself to name. She'd taken a step to meet him when he rushed forward. And she felt a pinch along the nerves of her spine when she realized he hadn't seen her at all, a painful punctuation of their end and an odd alienating reminder of the place she no longer held. She pushed it down and walked to Damon, kissing his cheek and letting her head fall heavy on his shoulder. His arms weren't so familiar as Stefan's, but she felt better.

Stefan didn't look away from Caroline, but he called to his brother. "Damon - "

"I'll take care of the body," Damon said, giving a dismissive wave of understanding.

Stefan took Caroline's hand in his and pulled her along. She held his arm to keep his pace. Her eyes didn't leave his face as they walked, so it wasn't until they arrived that she realized their destination. They were at her front porch when he released her. He glanced from her eyes to the front door and took a step back, away from her.

His message was clear. He'd made the first move. He chased after her when she ran away, laid his heart bare while she was too afraid to do the same. Whatever came next, it was her choice.

Caroline felt such an odd mixture of fear and joy rush through her, giving her a buzzing, heady sensation. She felt untethered, like she might float off in the night.

Too quickly, too shakily, she held out her hand. But when he took it, she felt her muscles steady, felt the solidity of her feet on the ground.

He followed as she led him up the porch steps. Halfway up, he yanked her hand, and she fell into his body. He lifted his fingers to her face, brushing them across her cheek and through her hair. He kissed her, slowly and deeply.

He felt the fit of her mouth on his, the pressure of her body, the frantic pulse beneath her skin. He parted her lips with his tongue and discovered she tasted sweet and rich. She whispered his name, and his whole body seemed to feel her voice. He couldn't understand it. He felt so painfully, blissfully human.

He couldn't remember how they found Caroline's bed, who threw who against the mattress. And he wanted to remember. He wanted to remember everything.

"Slow," he said, and it sounded like a plea. "Slow."

Slow enough to feel every jumping heartbeat, every kiss, every whisper of fingertips over skin.

They go slow.

* * *

The morning sun washed the room in pale, clear light. Caroline brought her hands overhead and stretched herself in a long straight line. Stefan roused and rolled toward her.

"You okay?" he asked.

She exhaled in a dramatic whoosh of air through puckered lips.

"Am I okay?" She repeated. "Are you kidding me?" The corners of her mouth pulled up involuntarily.

"It's like - I don't know if you remember from when you were human – "

"Cause I'm so very, very old?" he teased.

She swatted his arm and continued. "Do you remember what it felt like to walk out into sunlight?"

He smiled. "We're in the sun now," he remarked, indicating the open window with a tilt of his head.

"No," she said. "Not like being in the sun with the rings. They let us be in the sun by not feeling it. I'm talking about feeling it, when you first walk outside, how it's like walking into this bright warmth. Feeling it on you, then feeling like it's getting in you, through your skin."

He grinned. "So, that was like walking into sunlight?"

She laughed and rolled over, straddling him. "No," she said. "That was like being on the freaking _surface_ of the sun."

He laid back and looked up at her and brushed a hand through her hair. She took it and brought it to her lips.

"What do you think it means?" she asked. "That she looked like me?" They'd talked a good deal throughout the night, between long stretches of not talking at all. He told her about the shrine, about the woman that lie atop it.

"I don't think it means anything," he said. "I'm not living through doppelgangers and past lives anymore." He took her hands in his, and interlaced their fingers. "I'd much rather live in this one."

She smiled and looked down on him, and Stefan was sure he had somehow found a perfect moment in time.

"I was going to go away," he said. "Before Silas put me in the lake. I was leaving town."

Her instinct at his confession was to be hurt that he would leave her all alone, leave her without saying goodbye. But she found she couldn't hold the anger looking into his eyes.

"Why?" she asked.

He sighed. "I felt... in the way, I guess. Of everyone."

"You weren't ever in my way," she said quietly.

"I think I still want to go," he said. "But I want you to come with me."

She smiled, but shook her head at the suggestion. "Just leave town? And go where?"

"Anywhere," he answered. "I know that you have college, and you should go. Really, I want you to go. But maybe you could put it off. You have time, and we have time. And it's possible that no one's gonna try to kill us, at least for a little while. Maybe we should enjoy it. Together."

She buried her smile in her shoulder. She intended to say 'maybe'. She intended to tell him she'd think about it, and maybe work her schedule around a quick getaway. Instead, she found herself saying simply, "Okay."

"Okay?" he grinned widely."

"Okay!" she explained with a wide grin.

"And, in the meantime, do you want to go back?" he asked.

"Back where?" she said.

He placed an arm around her back and sat with her legs around his waist so their faces met. Stefan smiled slyly.

"The surface of the sun," he said.


End file.
